Witcher: Winds of Change
by IAmElvie
Summary: This story is NON-canon. Please do not read if you are a canonite. The story does cover many of the main characters plus a few new ones, it also covers the main story arc. I have not read the books yet, so it's based on what I've googled, the game and my imagination. It is for mature readers only. It will cover all 3 games and hopefully beyond.I'm not an editor.
1. Witcher Ch1 - The Foundling

Witcher

Section One

The Foundling

Kael shook his head. "Don't do this, Syntl. Neither of us are ready for this yet. You know the gateways are forbidden to us until our training is complete. Just because your father is High Elder does not mean you can do as you wish." Syntl had always been headstrong and on all other things, he could be just as headstrong. He couldn't even begin to account all the times they'd gotten each other into trouble. But this…did she not even know where to draw the line?

Syntl grinned. She knew he was worried because he cared and that warmed her heart. She was well aware the rules. She knew their training was not complete. Were it so, they'd be assigned as observers to various worlds to keep an eye on the seedlings.

Kin were the first beings born, they were born of dark matter. As the universes grew and spread, it was they that seeded those galaxies, brought life to the barren rocks. It was they that tended those gardens. Pruned or culled if needed. If the seedlings were deemed unsaveable, they would cleanse the failing galaxy to reseed it once more.

Much as the Gods, Kin were immortal. But Kin were no Gods. Gods were but distant reflections, beings that were sensitive to the power that flowed around them, able to use it, thus separating them from the mortals. But they were still seedlings to the Kin. All life was.

Syntl spread her light, golden wings, wings that matched the hair on her head, and then pulled them in, they settled on her skin, as if a large tattoo spreading down her back and legs. She slipped her fingers up to caress his face, admiring his beautiful blue eyes and light golden brown hair. They had gone from best friends to young lovers, though they had yet to take the final step…perhaps one day they'd be more. Her father could not object to the match, for Kael's mother was also on the Elder Council, their match was all but certainty. "It is only a flirty game of catch me if you can," she said softly. "I think you will enjoy the prize…if you can catch me." She winked at him as her fingers slid down his cheek and then flashed to the gateway and stepped through.

His hand reached up to grasp hers, but she was gone. "Syn!" He was torn by what he should do, but in the end, he'd never been one to follow orders. He flashed to the gateway, appearing in front of it. Purple veined electrical charges danced arched along the gateway's console. That was not good. He darted through portal, but the gateway winked out and he found himself standing on the far side of the gateway's frame. He flashed back to the console, but there were no readings. Until the gateway was repaired she would be stranded. There were no beings with space flight capabilities, not where this gateway led, so she could not make to another gateway. With a heavy heart, he raced from the chamber. He had to find her.

_BREAK ONE_

She knew something had gone wrong. Electrical currents raced over her body, setting her nerve endings on edge. She'd never been through a gateway before, but she knew this was not what was supposed to happen. She gritted her teeth trying to withstand the biting pain, but everything went black when she was forcibly propelled from the gateway. She was unaware that her body had fallen from the sky and she never felt the impact against the stony ground.

_BREAK TWO_

Davor yanked back on his reins as the sky turned teal a terrifying rip accompanied by purple lightening and high winds. "Teltin, look," he said pointing to the rip in the heavens, just as rain began to pelt them harshly.

"I wonder which of the boys fucked up?" Teltin said with a grin. The Griffin School was based in a mastery of magics. It was the only witcher school to focus on magic and the greater use of signs. "Master Ivanth will skin him."

Davor laid a hand on his horse's neck to sooth him when he stamped a foot in fear. He felt a chill go down his spine as power danced over his skin. "I don't think it's our boys," he bellowed in a tight voice, trying to be heard over the wail of the storm. He pointed to something that was plummeting from the tear in the sky. He reined his horse around and dug his heels into his horse's ribs. Wind rushed across his face, biting at it, barely able to breathe between the storm and the racing of his mount's feet.

"Wait up, you ass!" Teltin grumbled as he took off after Davor. He had a bad feeling about this. Rule of thumb, if the sky tears open and something falls from it…run the other way, not straight towards it. Nothing good would come from something falling out of the sky. It was a bad portent…if you were to believe in such things. He didn't think he had…until now. It wasn't that he was a coward, far from it…but the power he felt all around him was like nothing he'd ever felt before and that gave him pause. But he would not allow Davor to face the anomaly alone.

Davor's medallion warmed, but it didn't vibrate. Whatever was happening was not the result of magic. But why did his medallion warm? That had not happened before. It added to the wrongness of everything that was happening. He could feel his mount begin to tremble, whether it was from the hard run or from the power it had to be feeling, he wasn't sure, but he slowed their pace. He had no intension of running his mount into the ground.

He knew the general trajectory of the falling object, but not a precise location. His gaze scanned the area as he chanted softly under his breath to intensify his senses beyond their normal capabilities. There! A soft glow…had to be the object. He reined his horse to the right and hurried on. When he caught sight of the distant lump, he pulled his horse in and dismounted. No need to put his horse in danger. They were a good team, worked together as one, trusted each other. That was hard to come by and took a lot of work; he did not want to risk it. "Come on, Telly, time to hoof it."

"Thought we _were_ hoofing it," Teltin grumbled as he dismounted. "It was probably just a rock, you know. Wouldn't be the first one I've seen fall from the sky."

Davor cocked a brow and looked at his friend while they walked. "Just how many have you seen?"

"Just one other," Teltin admitted. "Crushed old man Mikel's hut. Good thing he was taking a leak on a tree, it saved his life."

"Impressive timing," Davor said with a chuckle. When the lump took form he froze. It couldn't be. A human? That was the last thing he'd expected. No human could have survived such an impact. There would be nothing left but stew. He lowered himself down next to the human and pulled gently on a shoulder to turn them over. Breath70 rushed from his lungs in a harsh burst. A woman. Not just any woman, but the prettiest woman he'd ever laid eyes on. His gaze reluctantly left her face to slide down her body. Not in a lecherous way, but to see how badly injured she was. Her armor was light, too much so. It was obvious it was armor, but he couldn't see how it would do much good in a battle. She did not appear to have any visual injuries. He caught the slight rise and fall of her chest. Breathing. Not rattling.

"Fuck me, she's a looker," Teltin said in appreciation, despite the unease he was feeling. The power he felt appeared to be coming from the woman who had fallen from the sky. "Have you ever seen that kind of armor before? I can't even tell what it's made from." He shook his head. "How did she survive the fall?"

"I don't know," Davor admitted. None of this added up, but it was apparent she was breathing and thus alive. "We can't leave her here, it's not safe" he said as he bent low to scoop her up into his arms and began the trek back to his horse. "We'll take her to Master Ivanth, he'll want to see her." He only hoped the jostling she was about to received didn't further damage her. He murmured a soft mantra to keep her asleep. He wasn't sure what kind of pain she'd be in when she awoke, best to have her someplace more comfortable. "Forgive me, my lady, we cannot leave you here for the beasts. I beg your pardon if I cause you undue pain," he murmured. He doubted she could hear him, but he felt better speaking the words.

"No doubt. I've never felt the kind of power that's coming from her. It's nearly tangible. And yet…" Teltin glanced down at his medallion. "My medallion is silent. It's not humming or vibrating, it doesn't sense magic or monster…yet it is warm. Very warm. Makes no sense." He lifted his hand to his lips and whistled for his horse.

Davor knew his own horse would not come to another's whistle. He pressed the woman into his chest to reach his lips and sent out his own whistle. When their mounts arrived, he handed the woman to Teltin and mounted.

Teltin eagerly handed the woman up to his friend. He was uneasy about her and did not mind in the slightest that she would be in Davor's arms.

The journey back to the fortress was slow. The horses kept to an easy walk, so as not to further injure the woman. They could not know if there were internal injuries. When she started to stir in his arms, he realized his sleep spell had not worked. That was worrisome. He lowered the reins to free a hand and withdrew a potion. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth and held it to the woman's lips. He was relieved to see that she was awake enough to swallow. He put the stopper back in the tiny vial and slipped it back into a pocket before taking the reins once more. At least now she should get some healing sleep.

They crossed the bridge over the moat and entered the Gryphon keep courtyard. "Whoa," Davor said, pulling back on the reins. He drew his right leg over the top of his horse's head and slid down the side of the saddle, his feet landing softly on the ground.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Boys and young men alike stopped their routines and turned to turn and look. It was obvious they felt the power as well.

Ivanth's eyes narrowed. He could feel the power coming from the woman in Davor's arms. What had they brought back to the keep? And just what would her arrival mean for the keep? Or could that power be harnessed? Used? "Back to it, lads!" he said in a tone that brooked no argument. He met the pair halfway. "Take her below."

Davor froze. "You can't mean…"

"I didn't ask your permission, nor do I need it," Ivanth reminded the young man.

"Master…"

"Now, Davor!" Ivanth growled.

What had he done? He thought only to help the woman and instead he may be the one to bring about her death. The only time anyone is brought downstairs is when it was their time to go through the Trial of the Grasses…and few survived the ordeal. To make matters worse, this was a woman…and women were never made witchers.

He gritted his teeth, told Teltin he'd catch up to him later and followed the orders he was given with a heavy heart. He'd be lying if he said the thought of running away with her hadn't occurred to him. If only he had not brought her here. He may no longer show the same range of emotion that humans did, but he did feel…he knew regret and he would feel the guilt if anything happened to her. He stilled a moment at the bottom of the stairs and looked down at a face that took his breath away. The push at his back prodded him to move forward.

"Where did you find her? What happened?" Ivanth asked as he moved around Davor and began to prepare for what was to come.

Davor laid her down on a table and explained everything woodenly. He flinched when her hands and ankles were locked into shackles. "I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me someday, my lady. I only wished to help you," he whispered softly and brought his lips down to her forehead. "I never thought this would happen," he murmured against her skin. He stood and faced his master. "Why are you doing this, Master Ivanth?"

Ivanth ignored the young man for a moment while he started the mixture's preparation. "I know you felt her power, boy." He turned to face the young man. "We don't know what she is. Why she's here. Perhaps a powerful sorceress sent her here to destroy us. Perhaps it was fate. Regardless, the only way to ensure our safety is to have her bound to us."

Davor frowned. "That is a gamble. Not everyone is affected by that. It could make a woman that meant no harm into someone who would seek vengeance. You could very well perpetuate what you say you are trying to prevent. But it is far more likely you will kill her outright."

He was aware of the possible outcomes. But to have the chance to harness such power, it was more than he was willing to give up. He had to try. He sliced open a vein and slid a tiny tube into it. He drained some of her blood into a cylinder. He would dry it and powder it later. Perhaps, it would have some use in future experimentation. He then connected the tube to the potion beaker and moved to do the same to her other arm. "It is a gamble I'm willing to take."

"She's a woman! What you are doing…"

"Is within my rights here as master, boy!"

"She should have a choice in the matter; she was not groomed to be a witcher! She's not a child! She did not go through the training. This…" he said waving his hand around the chamber, "is the culmination of all the training, not the start of it."

"I have made my decision and you will depart," Ivanth said coldly.

Davor threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the chamber. The only way he could have stopped this from happening is if he'd attacked Ivanth. Even so, even if he could win such a battle, he'd then have to fight through every witcher and acolyte here. He had no delusions that he wouldn't survive that battle. He could do nothing to save her; such an attempt would lead to both their deaths. At least this way, she had a chance to survive, even if it was miniscule. He never should have brought her, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. What he did know was that he couldn't bear to hear her screams. He saddled his mount and left the keep at a run, as if the hounds of hell were nipping at their heels.

He ran until his horse began to lather and then slowed him into a canter. "Sorry, Spook," he said rubbing the black horse on the neck. "Some demons cannot be outrun, no matter how one can wish otherwise." When the sweat cooled he slowed him further, going from a trot to eventually a walk. When they passed a tavern he pulled up and turned around. A drink sounded most inviting.

He could hear the laughter and smell the unwashed bodies when he stepped into the establishment. Certainly a downfall to having a keener sense of smell. He sat down at a table and ordered a drink from the barmaid. When another woman approached him he waved her away. Like the woman he unintentionally betrayed, he would have no pleasure this night. It wasn't due to some kind of twisted guilt; he just wasn't in the mood. At least that is what he told himself.

He only ever let himself have two drinks unless he was at the keep. He did not care to dull his senses when he was out. With a sigh he rose from the table, dropped coin next to his empty tankard and left. He found a nice, grassy knoll and made camp. Perhaps he shouldn't have left. It was his fault alone that she was being tortured. He should have stayed and tried to comfort her through it. With a sigh, he kicked dirt over the fire, packed up and started the long journey back. Twice he had failed her. Once in the bringing and once in the fleeing. He would not fail her again.

By the time he made it back to Griffin Keep Ivanth had just started preparation for the second trial. The Trial of Dreams. Her eyes, bone marrow and hormones would be affected. "She has survived thus far." He could see the weariness in the older man's face. It was apparent he'd been up all night with her.

"She has," he said with a smile. "I've never seen anyone take to it like she did. Her body did little more than tremble all night. What is she, I wonder?"

Relief flooded through him. She was no doubt in pain, but not to the extent that is normally gone through. At least he hoped that was the case. He rubbed his forehead. "You did take into account that the formula for Trial of Dreams was based on male physiology?"

Ivanth's gaze narrowed. "Of course I did. Why do you think I've been up all night? I've been researching how it can be altered for female physiology. I have friends in high places," he said smugly.

"He does," Philippa Eilhart said stepping from the shadows. "I must admit I was rather intrigued when he told me of the woman."

Davor had to admit he was stunned to find the sorceress here. "Intrigued or concerned about the power she wields and what that will mean for you?"

"Davor!" Ivanth cut in.

Philippa held up her hand. "We don't know what if any power she can wield, now do we, witcher? We just know power surrounds her. As to why I would help, I have my reasons and I do not intend to share them with you." She drew her hand down the woman's arm. "She is a fascinating creature. She looks human, though I doubt she is. Her irises are far larger than human and look," she said spreading the woman's lips, displaying the relatively longer and sharper canine teeth. "That is definitely not human, but nor is she a vampire and silver has no effect on her whatsoever. Facinating." Philippa frowned. "She should have come to us; she'd have made a phenomenal sorceress."

"Would she? If she has as much power as we think, she could easily have risen to rule the lodge."

Philippa's eyes narrowed on the young man. "True, but it would have made us stronger as a whole."

" _If_ you could control her. Those that wield the most power rarely consent to being a puppet," Davor pointed out.

Philippa bared her teeth. "A worthless point to debate as it will never happen now." She dismissed him and turned to help Ivanth hook up the second mutation cocktail.

"Why have you returned?" Ivanth asked.

"To lend her my support. It is I that brought her here; I should not have left her as I did. I will not fail her again."

"Touching," Philippa said snidely. "A witcher with a heart."

He forced himself not to react to the sorceress' barbs. He hated the woman, but now was not the time to indulge his need to bite back. "I'm surprised you didn't remove her armor."

"We tried," Ivanth admitted, "but we couldn't figure out how. It, oddly, appears to have no point of entry. I would say magic, but we know that is not the case."

"She's been asleep all this time?" Davor asked curiously as he took her hand.

"Quite so. In fact, we've been unable to wake her. We have considered that she may be in some sort of healing trance or maybe she took some sort of long lasting potion. Her body, no doubt suffered greatly from the fall. But with our inability to remove her armor, we have been unable to ascertain the damage."

Davor also knew that magic appeared to have little to no effect on her and that was something he'd chosen to keep to himself. He felt a slight, brief grip on his hand and knew the woman was awake. How she managed to keep it hidden he didn't know. Nor did he know for how long she'd been awake or just how much she'd heard. Perhaps she felt she was surrounded by enemies and felt the best protocol was to remain inert and learn as much as she could. Smart. Cunning. But why had she chosen to let him know? He returned the pressure to let her know he understood. If, when all was said and done, she chose to attack Ivanth, he would back her up, regardless what it cost him. This..what they were doing..it never should have happened.

He gently ran his fingers along her forehead, sweeping the golden hair from her face. "If she survives the mutation, what do you intend for her?" They might as well learn as much as possible.

"She will begin her training, of course. She has much to learn, potions, mutagens, swords, magic...if she does not already have it. She will be trained as any young witcher would. If she is everything I think she is, she will do much for the Griffin name."

"You aim to make Griffin the top school then. She would need to be twice as good as the men in order to garner the same respect," he said thoughtfully.

"I've little doubt that it will not be a problem for her. She is bound for greatness and I intend to be a part of that. Or the school does," he amended quickly.

Davor released a breath. Typical. "Have you even considered she may not look kindly upon this _gift_? That she may object to being made infertile…given no choice?"

"None of you have been given a choice, what makes her any different? She.."

"She is no child, as I said earlier; she wasn't groomed for the position. She didn't grow up knowing it would happen."

"Yes...yes…you've already made your position clear, as have I," he said coldly. "If the woman does not see reason or does not prove amenable, then Philippa will handle matters."

"So you intend to use magic to control her mind? Do you think that will end well?" Davor asked, trying to keep the horror from his voice. How had he never seen this side of Ivanth? The man was a hard taskmaster, but he'd never thought he could be so cruel and heartless. He felt the slight brush of her thumb against his palm.

Ivanth shrugged. "If it doesn't she will die. Regardless, we have learned much by what has been done. Perhaps now there is a future in the order for women. We'd be the first school to successfully mutate them."

"Even were that so, we both know few would survive the mutation, culling women like that could endanger the population," Davor pointed out.

Ivanth growled. "Then we will purchase children from beggars. Even were their lives to be brief, they would not suffer the hardships of the street. They would have full bellies and clothing."

"Full bellies and clothing are all good and well until they die a horrendous and painful death." He could see the sweat forming on her brow and wiped it away before the sting of it could reach her eyes. How she was holding up so well he couldn't guess. Normally there was intense cramping, fire in your veins and plenty of vomiting. Outside of the occasional tremor and now the sweat, you'd think she was peacefully sleeping.

"Now, I've heard enough! Either stay your tongue or depart the chamber," Ivanth said in a steely voice.

"Yes, do depart," Philippa encouraged with a sneer.

"Not likely," Davor growled back.

Syntl took in everything she'd heard. She wasn't sure where she was, but it was an alien world to anything she knew. This was a world of barbarians. They still fought with weapons? Swords? She'd learned some from her studies, but reading about a thing and experiencing it were two different things. She'd been awake for some time, but she was weakened from the fall. Her unconscious mind must have used all her power to land safely; she needed to recuperate before she could take on those that captured her. She wasn't sure what they'd given her, but she knew her body could withstand about anything, heal from just about anything and her fast metabolism was helping her burn through whatever they were giving her. But she could still feel some of the effects. Immortal or not, she was not immune to pain.

The man next to her was different than the others. He'd shown he had heart, compassion. She knew he'd run because he was overcome by guilt. The fact that he'd returned showed his strength and honor. She also realized he'd risked a lot fishing for answers for her benefit. She would never forget his kindness. Perhaps, she would have a friend here. Damn it all, she should have listened to Kael. Would he even be able to find her? Right now she could not bear to think on it. Whether he did or not, surviving this strange land was the first thing she had to do. For that, she would need friends. She placed two fingers against his palm and moved them in a galloping motion.

Davor blinked when he felt the motion against his palm. Run. She intended to run. That she trusted him enough to tell him that warmed his heart. Up until now, he'd never considered leaving Griffin Keep permanently, but if he did this, he would be considered a traitor and would not be welcomed back. No matter. After what he'd learned of Master Ivanth, he could not bear to remain.

He waited until they'd unhooked her and blasted them back with an aard. For good or ill, his time here was over.

She sat up swiftly and raised a hand, freezing the other pair in place. "I need you to destroy the contents of the vials while I retrieve the memory of its making."

Her words were soft and lilting, but he could not understand anything she said. "I'm sorry; I do not understand anything you said."

Of course. She motioned to the vials and then to the fireplace. When she saw his nod she turned to the pair she had frozen. She slipped into Ivanth's mind and withdrew the memory of the formula and of Davor's attack. To him it would be as if the pair just disappeared. She did the same to the woman. No doubt the woman had the recipe elsewhere, but there was little she could do about that right now. The memory of the formula had become her own. She never thought she'd have call to use it, but better to know a thing and not need it than to need it and not know it. She blinked her eyes, they felt strange. No matter, she would heal. She did not yet have the strength to fly them out of here so they needed to rely on conventional travel.

"We need to get to the stable. But you…you can't be seen looking the way you do. I need to find you some Griffin armor. I'll be right back."

She grabbed his arm and shook her head. She looked at his armor and transfigured hers to match. She smiled when he just blinked. She spun him around to take a good look at his backside…the armor, of course. Then she added a deep cowl so that her face hid within its depths.

He was stunned. She had performed yet more magic and his medallion remained quiet. Magic that was not magic. Though, as Telly said, his medallion was warm, but it felt no threat. "Nice job, my lady. First to the armory to get you a pair of swords and then to the stable. The swords were made for a man, but you must look the part of a witcher and no witcher would ride off without his swords. Come on." He led her up from the chamber through the courtyard and into the keep. It was pure luck that no one stopped to talk. Or, perhaps just Ivanth's tight rein. As no one was in the armory he helped her buckled the scabbards onto her back and slid the long blades in. They would definitely need to find a knowledgeable blacksmith to make her a pair of swords that fit her leaner musculature. Until then, they'd little choice.

He led her to the stable. Someone had been nice enough to stable Spook, but left his rigging on. Good enough, saved them some time. He introduced her to Spook.

She stroked the black animal's dark face. "Whenever he whistles you shall arrive. No distance too great. No time to blink."

He wished he understood her words. But that would come with time; right now they had to leave. "Do you know how to ride a horse?" he asked quietly. The shake of her head told him all he needed to know. He moved to the third from last stall. "This mare is older, but she is dependable and forgiving," he said pointing to the chestnut with two white stockings and a thin blaze.

She heard his words, but her attention was caught by another splendid beast. A dark gold, dapple palomino with a thick white tail and mane. "Titan," she whispered. She felt the tug on her arm when she moved towards the young stallion.

"My lady, that is beautiful animal, but it was freshly culled from the herd. He is neither tame nor broke to saddle. He has also not been gelded yet." He could do nothing about the heat in his cheeks. "I beg you to consider Rosy."

She patted his hand and held hers up to him. "Stay." She approached the young stallion singing softly to him. His ears flicked back and forth but his body remained still.

Davor's heart felt like a block of ice in his chest. He'd already seen the beast injure two witchers during his capture. He wanted to stop her, but he knew that any movement towards the animal by him would likely cause the woman to be injured and he'd already hurt her enough. Despite his fear for her, he felt himself relax under the soft lilting melody of her song. It was apparent the horse was not immune to her either.

She opened the stall door and shut it behind her, never breaking the song. When the animal lowered its head, she stroked the wide blaze on his face. It was so wide that it encompassed both eyes and extended all the way down to cover his muzzle. He had startling blue eyes. He had four white stocking that went slightly higher than halfway up his legs. "You and I are one, my beautiful, sweet Titan. Partners. Equals. A bond bound by trust, faith and love. Whenever I whistle, you will arrive. No distance too great. No time to blink. Please allow Davor to saddle you so that we may leave." She felt the soft wriggle of his muzzle against her cheek. She drew her arms around his large neck. "Please forgive the mistakes I make. I have never ridden before." She paused. "That is true, we shall learn together then." She turned to face Davor. "You can saddle him now. He is ready."

Davor had seen it all now. An untamed beast felled by a beautiful woman's touch, so much so that he'd actually kissed her cheek. No doubt this woman would open his eyes to many more wonders. He flushed as his mind went in a direction he'd not intended. He cleared his throat and did as she bid, finding the smallest and most comfortable saddle they had. He showed her how to settle the pad and saddle on his back and how to buckle the chest guard and cinch. He buckled on the saddle bags. He explained how some horses puff up their bellies so the cinch cannot be tightened enough and that could cause saddle slippage, dangerous to both man and beast. But he suspected this particular animal would not do that with her.

He could see the stallion's muscles rolling under his skin. He'd never been saddled before; that he was allowing it spoke volumes. He picked up the bridle and looked from the horse to the lady. He explained how horses had a gap between their front teeth and back teeth and that if you placed your fingers on the gap and applied a bit of pressure they would open their mouths for the bit.

She smiled. "Or you could just ask them. Titan, would you please open your mouth?"

Before he could place his fingers, the stallion's mouth opened. At first he thought he thought he would get bitten, but then he realized the stallion was waiting. What he'd heard earlier… he wasn't wrong. She was talking to the horses. But how is they could understand her and he could not? He slipped the bit in and the stallion immediately began playing with it. He'd never before considered how it must feel to a horse, but he would never lose sight of it again. He showed her how to buckle on the bridle and then pulled the looping rein into place so that it rested on the saddle.

"This is how you mount." He placed his left foot in the stirrup, which was quite a reach even for him, and pulled himself up. The snort and shake of the horse's head followed by a stamp of his hind foot reminded him just whom he was dealing with. He lowered himself to the ground. "I do believe he prefers the lady to mount him. Do as I did and then swing your right leg over his back and settle in the seat. For now, just grab the reins near his mouth and lead him from the stall. Then we will mount."

He returned to Spook and led him from the stall. "Do you need a hand up?" he asked. She was tiny compared to the stallion. He watched as she lifted her leg high. Impressively high, but mounting from that angle would be extremely awkward. He heard her murmur something and then the stallion put one hoof forward and lowered himself down to one knee. She mounted easily. And when she was fully seated he rose. That happened. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He mounted Spook and nudged his ribs. "We should leave quickly. I will ride on the outside; hopefully no one will realize which steed you are mounted upon. To turn your horse in the direction you want either pull on the rein corresponding to that direction or if you are reining with a single hand move your hand in that direction and it will apply pressure to the horse's neck. Since he has not been trained, it is probably best that you physically turn his head with the former method. Come on…let's go before we are given too much notice."

They took off down the lane. Their luck continued to pay off, not running into anyone coming back as they rode across the bridge. There was only one place he could think to go. She was a witcher now and while he could train her, she really needed to be trained under a master and he needed a new home. He would seek out an old friend, a brother…though not by blood. The journey would be long, but it would give him time to learn how to communicate with her and he would be able to start her training.

They traveled further than expected, the weather held and their mounts seemed tireless. But he knew she had to be aching in unmentionable places and both they and their mounts needed a rest. He pulled up at the next inn and paid for the largest stall. He piled their tack in the corner and put both horses were led into the stall. Theft was something you always had to think on. He usually slept on the trail, he was a light sleeper and few dared to bother a witcher. But after everything she'd been through, he wanted her to have a comfortable night's sleep. Not something they would likely get much of. He warned the stable hand that Titan was not tame and anyone approaching him would risk their life. In this way, Titan was the best guard for their tack and against horse thievery.

When they entered the inn he told her he'd order them dinner and grab a couple of rooms. He watched her head shake and she lifted up one finger. He knew she was right, they needed to conserve funds, but he hadn't wanted to offend her by suggesting such. He supposed he could sleep in the barn. There appeared to be plenty of hay. He'd laid down on far worse. At least it would be a warm, if not comfortable bed.

While they supped he explained about the signs, what each did and hand movements required to work them. "I realize whatever magic you have probably makes their use moot, but you are a witcher now and should practice using them. No need to give away that you are more than what you are. You should be aware that some people revile or fear us. It is best if you come to ignore the insults. Don't let them bait you into doing something you will regret later.

When their meal was finished she pointed to the bowl. "Bowl." Then she pointed to him.

She was still hungry? "You want me to get you more?"

She shook her head. She pointed to the bowl. "Bowl." She put it down and picked up a fork. "Fork." Then she pointed to him. She didn't expect him to learn her language. That would be pointless, but she did need to learn his. Sure, she could understand the humans fine, but they could not understand her. And there was no way she was going to give the tongue of her people to everyone around her just to communicate. She needed to learn their language.

He grinned. "You want to learn my language." Her smile and nod was all the encouragement he needed. He picked up the bowl. "Bowl."

She repeated the word and pushed him to move on. She only needed to learn something once. She knew he could only teach her the most basic speech in this manner, the nuances and greater meanings she would have to learn over time.

When he'd finished telling her what everything around her was, he rose and offered her his arm. Had she not taken her cowl down it would have been far more awkward, but at least people knew she was a woman. He strolled with her through the inn, giving her new words, she seemed so eager he was unwilling to stop her lesson, they would sleep soon enough. He led her outside to tell her about trees, grass, torch, fire. He'd even led her to the outhouse. "Privy."

She paled and covered her nose nodding. Is that truly what it had come down to? How did people live like this?

He pulled her to a stop. He pointed to his chest. "I". Then pointed to her. "You."

She pointed to his chest and said "I".

He shook his head. Pointed to his chest and said, "I." Then pointed to her and said, "You." He took her hand and pulled out her finger so that it pointed. He used her hand to point to her chest. "I" and then used her hand to point to his chest. "You."

Now she understood. She knew what I and you were. She had to admit the man had remarkable patience.

He flushed. "I," he said pointing to himself, "have to go to the privy," he said pointing the privy with a frown.

She nodded and walked over to a cat that was just waking up from its nap, stroking it into a purr. When she finally heard the door open she rose and waved her hand in his direction with a grin.

The smell of roses surrounded him. "Well, at least better than the alternative. Wish you'd have thought to do that before I entered the privy," he said with a twitch of his nose. He grinned when she laughed, her eyes glowing silvery in the dark. He wondered if they were blue before the change or if they'd always been a silver color. Some witchers maintained a similar eye color, others did not. "Do you need to use the privy?" he asked with a flush. It was not something a man usually discussed with a woman, but she needed to hear him speak to learn. He nodded his head, "Yes," and then shook his head, "No." Then he shrugged, "Maybe."

She copied him and then shook her head. "No…I have no go to the privy."

He chuckled. "I do not need to go to the privy," he corrected with a grin.

She repeated him properly and then took his arm once more when he offered it. He showed her to the stable. He drew her up again. His face already flushed. He pointed to himself. "Male. Man." He made a flat slice down his chest. He then pointed to her. "Female. Woman." He followed that by a curvy movement of his hands. He was pretty sure his face was scarlet by now, but how else was she to learn?

She flushed too. She wouldn't normally, but his blush and awkwardness caused her to blush as well. But she understood his meaning fine. She pointed to the black horse. "Spook. Male." Then pointed to the palomino. "Titan. Male."

"Yes. Spook is a male. A gelding. Gelding," he said making scissor-like motion with his hands and pointed to his groin.

"You are gelding?" She asked confused.

"No!" he said, wishing the ground would swallow him up. "Spook. He is a gelding." He took her around to the back of the stall and moved Spook's tail. "Gelding." Then he carefully moved Titan's tail. " is a stallion."

He moved down to a further stall and found what he wanted. He moved the mare's tail to the side. "Mare. She is a mare."

She could see sex talk made him feel uncomfortable, but he was willing to face that discomfort for her. She had to wonder why the talk made him uncomfortable. She would have thought nothing of talking about body parts or anything else related to sex. Maybe it was the time. Maybe men and women didn't discuss such matters openly. She would have to try not to shock him too much once she became fluent with the language. Then again it was adorable when he flushed and stammered.

For now she would let him off the hook. She pointed to herself. "I Syn."

He darn near swallowed his tongue. "You what?" Did she really just tell him she sinned?

"I Syntl…Syn." She then pointed to him. "You?"

Wait..he'd never taught her the word sin. He dragged a hand through his dark hair. Her name. "You are Sintel. Sin." He pointed to himself. "I am Davor."

"Dayvor," she repeated.

He held his arm out. "We should get some sleep; we will be heading out early tomorrow." He showed her to the door of her room and bid her goodnight. The touch of her hand pulled him up short.

This wonderful man had done so much for her, given up so much for her and he was just going to go lay down on the hard ground somewhere? Not on her watch. "You. Stay. Sleep." She pointed to the bed and made a movement depicting size with her hands.

He pointed to the bed. "Bed. You want me to sleep in the bed with you? Are you saying the bed is big enough for two?" He eyed the bed dubiously. Not unless they slept close together.

"Yes!" she said nodding her head.

He sighed. How could down an invitation to a beautiful woman's bed? Even if it meant he had to keep his hands to himself. He nodded. "Thank you," he said and gave her a small bow.

"Yes!" she said with a grin.

He smiled back. "You're welcome," he said correcting her. He closed the door and lifted a slat of wood and settled it in the cradle to lock the door. Quaint, but it would do. He removed his armor and placed it the corner of the room, eyed Syn for a moment and removed the top of his protective undersuit. Normally when he slept at an inn he removed everything. But he had no intension of doing so without her leave. He sat down to remove his boots and socks. With a smile he rose to help her unbuckle the sword harness. He removed them and set the pair on the table. "You will get used to it in no time, Syn."

He watched as her armor melted away to some kind of form fitting garment consisting of breeches and a small shirt. The material appeared slightly shiny and had none of the ties or stays of normal clothing. A small bit of skin was displayed between the two. When her nipples tightened in the cool of the room he swallowed hard. But it did kick his brain into gear. He stacked wood in the fireplace and made sure the flue was open so that smoke did not fill the room. "This is a good time to practice the igni sign. Use it to light the wood." He understood she probably could have lit the fire with a mere thought, but that wasn't the point, she needed to think and respond as a witcher did. If she began to do so in all situations, if it became second nature, then it would help prevent people from calling her a witch or a sorceress, which they tended to fear even more.

She gestured with a hand and the wood burst into flame. "I did it!"

"You did," he said with a grin. Ivanth was correct, she was a powerful witcher. He'd been ready to aard the flames out; it took practice to be precise with the signs. First attempts usually set the whole area ablaze. "Now use aard to put the flames out. Then reignite them with igni."

She did as instructed and then clapped her hands.

He laughed at her exuberance. "Magnificent, my dear. Most first attempts are far more disastrous. You are a natural."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you for…all."

He was surprised by her show of affection, but returned the hug. How could he not? She felt good in his arms. "Everything," he corrected. "And you are quite welcome."

She took his hand, led him to a chair and sat him down. She then poured water from a pitcher and soaked what looked to be a sponge; at least she hoped it was. With a flick of her hand the scent of roses filled the air. She drew the sponge over his face, as she did so she removed the stubble that had grown throughout the course of the day. Much better.

He was stunned when she began to wash him. Even so, it was understandable, for he knew he smelled ripe after a day in his armor. But he tended to grow accustom to it when there were no streams nearby to bathe in. Though innocent, the act was also intimate and he could not prevent his body's response. He was most glad he was sitting and that his protective undergear was loose enough to not make the issue glaringly obvious.

He watched as a she held out her hand and what appeared to be a smooth, rounded stone appeared in her palm. She raised her arm and drew the stone over her armpit several times and did the same with her other arm. Then she handed the stone to him. He took it and did as she had shown him. There was a slight hum coming from the stone and it caused the flesh of his armpit to tingle a bit. "What does this do?" he asked. He realized the question required more than she was able to vocalize. When he tried to hand the stone back to her she waved her hands in negation.

"You keep. No smell," she said waving her hand in front of her nose. She thought again about giving him the tongue of her people. But speech could not be given with a thought, it was too intricate and it would amount to gibberish without the muscle memory. And the only way to give the muscle memory was via a kiss. Her tongue must meet his to transfer the memory. She had only ever kissed Kael. That wasn't the only thing holding her back. It was imperative that she learned the local language. She feared if he knew her language that his brain would automatically respond with the language it was addressed in, thus making it more difficult for her to learn his language. Soon, perhaps. Once she'd learned enough of the basics that her learning could continue by listening to those around her.

If this stone could keep him from smelling, he would in no way turn it down. "Thank you, Syn." He placed it on the table for now. He would put it in his saddle bags come morning. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met before, he never even heard of anyone like her. There were so many questions he had, but there was no way for her to answer them sufficiently with what amounted to a babe's speech. Perhaps in a few days, at the rate she was catching on, they'd be able to have a more normal conversation.

She pulled back the blankets and slid into the bed. She wondered if she would be stiff in the morning. It wasn't near as soft as what she was used to. "Davor, sleep now," she said, patting the bed next to her and then turned onto her side to give him more room.

"Of course," he said softly and slid in next to her, turning on his side away from her so that their backs touched. The fog of sleep descended quickly.

-BREAK THREE-

He awoke on his back with a warm body in his arms. Her head rested on his chest and her leg was thrown over his. Not that he minded waking up thusly. "Good morn," he said when he felt her stir.

"Good morn," she repeated and then placed a hand in front of her mouth and turned away. Her breath was horrid. That she was not used to. At home she would use a sani-light. It destroyed bacteria on contact. But it was not natural, not something she knew the composition of or could replicate. How then was she to solve the problem?

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

She pointed to her mouth, exhaled twice and waved her hand in front of her nose.

He grinned. "Your breath smells? I had not noticed." Likely because his was just as bad. "Give me a moment," he said as he buckled his armor back on. He strapped on his swords and left her with a brief wave. He spoke with the innkeep and ordered a breakfast platter and the supplies she needed..they needed. He returned to catch her rubbing a small cloth over her teeth. That certainly worked in a pinch, but it would not prevent tooth loss over time.

He sat the platter on the table and propped her swords up against the wall. "Two days ride and we will be at a town with an elven blacksmith. He is familiar with witcher swords and many have sworn by him. He will be able to properly rune a silver sword for you." He reached over his shoulder and pulled out his silver sword, laying the flat of the blade against his palm to display the runes that glowed lightly. "This is a silver sword. It is used by a witcher to slay monsters and magical beings."

She ran her fingertips down the runes, feeling the etchings and the strange cold that emanated from them. Her hand fell away. This was all too real. She would have to kill. It wasn't like she was untrained. She knew how to defend herself and knew she could kill with a thought, if need be, though it was not a thing she'd ever liked to do. But this, this was different. This would entail chopping off body parts, blood, gore. That she knew nothing about. But until the gateway was repaired and Kael could find her, she was stuck in this place and had to survive it; had to live as they did, lest she draw too much attention to herself.

He slid the sword back into its scabbard and withdrew the other. "This is a finely crafted steel sword. It is used to fight humans and natural creatures that attack you." He slid the sword back into place and studied her a moment. "It is obvious you are not from around here. But you must realize there are men with evil in their hearts and they will attack you for little else than to take your boots." He sighed. He hated that she was forced onto the path. No gentlewoman belonged on such a path. And it was obvious she was a lady, if not nobility. "The path a witcher walks is a hard one. I am sorry." He placed a hand over his heart. "I truly apologize that I played any part in the path being forced upon you. I consider you a friend, and if you would allow it, I hope that you would see me as such too."

She placed her hand over his and squeezed it. "Friend. My friend. No apologize to me."

He smiled sadly. "You do not need to apologize to me," he corrected softly. "But my heart cries out that I must. Please accept it as so."

"Of course, I accept, my friend," she said quietly.

He untied the pouch at his side. He held up the tooth brush. "This is a tooth brush to clean your teeth." He then pulled out a smaller, oil lined pouch with a stopper. "This is a tooth paste. You put it on the brush to help clean and freshen your mouth. Now, let us break our fast. You may brush your teeth afterwards. Go easy on the tooth paste. Inns can be far between."

She nodded and joined him at the table, popping fruits and cheeses into her mouth.

He frowned when he realized she'd not touched the meats. "You are no mere housewife that does naught but clean. You need meat, Syn. Meat keeps your muscles strong." He sighed at her grimace of distaste. "I'm assuming you do not eat meat where you come from?" At the shake of her head he sighed again. "It is but one more change you will need to make. I'm sorry, but there is no choice in the matter. Often times on the path, the only meal you get is what you can forage. That largely consists of meat, of which your body now requires." He handed her a slice of bacon. "This is bacon, a favorite meat of many people. Not the most healthy, but a good place to start." He stared intently at her until she took the bacon. Then he resumed his own meal, he had no wish to stare at her and cause her discomfort while she ate something she did not like.

She raised the meat to her nose and sniffed. It was not a bad smell as meats go, but she was still hesitant to eat it. She understood the logic behind his words. This was not her world. There was no nutra-paste or hydro-gel here. She would have to make do. Even if that meant doing something she abhorred. Doubtless, she would be doing many more things she abhorred when all was said and done.

She nibbled the meat and was surprised that it was not bad. A bit salty, but not bad. She forced herself to eat a couple of slices and then resumed the more palatable fare. She washed it down with a sweet juice and then moved to the basin to brush her teeth. There was a strong taste of mint in the paste; bits of green could also be seen. No matter, her mouth did feel invigorated and clean when she was done.

She stepped away from basin to allow him to take care of his own mouth. She materialized the armor and made a few adjustments with a smile. If she had to wear it, she had to make it hers. She picked up the swords, slipped on the harness and buckled it up.

When she turned around he could only stare. She still wore Griffin armor, but now it was form fitting, molded to her body and it appeared lighter in make, more feminine in design. "I've never seen our armor look so lovely," he said with a grin as he led her down the stairs.

Kaleb glanced up as the pair came down the stairs. The young woman was breathtaking. It did his old eyes good. "She's as perty as an angel, you're a lucky man. If'n I was 20 years younger I'd steal her away from you," he said with a wink to the young woman.

"If you were 20 years younger you'd be old enough to be her father," Davor teased with a grin. He did not correct the man's assumption, however. For to do so would make her little more than a strumpet.

Kaleb laughed heartily. "Take care of your angel. They are rare to find and rarer to keep, bless my Lydia's soul."

Syntl stepped forward and kissed the old man's leathery cheek. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"Bless your eyes," Kaleb said kindly. "I did not know a witcher to be an angel, but then I've never seen a female witcher before. Safe travels, lass."

"Will you and your angel be staying another night?" the innkeep asked hopefully. She knew some people hated witchers on principle, but coin was coin. The pair paid well and talked respectful-like. They behaved far better than most of her customers.

"No ma'am. Angel and I must resume the path. We thank you for your hospitality," he replied with a slight bow of his head.

Oh my, he was quite the gentleman. "My doors are always open to you, witcher," the innkeep said, fanning her face.

When they reached the barn he watched contentedly as she talked softly to the stallion. She opened the door of the stall and the stallion followed her like a puppy. He handed her a brush that he'd pulled from her saddlebags. "Brush him down well before you saddle him. It will remove the dried sweat and dirt and make his skin feel better." When he was finished brushing his gelding he put his brush away and pulled out the hoof picks from their saddle bags. He took her brush and handed her the pick. "Use this to pick the debris from bottom of his hooves. It can help prevent infection and impactions." He grinned. "Normally you would put a slight pressure near his ankle to get him to raise his hoof, but I suppose you could just ask him to lift it," he teased.

With their mounts cleaned and saddled they moved out. He stopped at a message board and removed two items and they resumed their journey. They stopped briefly for a quick lunch from the leftovers he'd had wrapped up from breakfast, near a burbling brook. They refilled their water skins. Then he took a few minutes to give her some basic swordplay drills. How to hold it, how to block, how to deflect. Once she could protect herself from blows, then he would work on her offence. For the moment, defense was the most important, because her foes were larger and could hit harder. She needed to move faster and outthink brute strength.

It was no surprise she caught on quickly, he'd come to expect it from her. What he was surprised about was how lithe her movements were. She was quick on her feet and oftentimes was not there when the flat of his sword landed. She didn't disappear or use her power, her body was well honed and her reflexes sharp. Too sharp for humans or witchers, her movements all but a blur. "You've had some training," he remarked. But it was just as obvious her arms were tiring. She was slower to block, but quicker to dodge, the compensation worked, but it was glaringly evident that she needed lighter swords.

She slid the sword back into its sheath with a grin. She unbuckled the harness, laid the swords on the ground and then turned to him. She shook out her arms, gave him a come here gesture and dropped into a loose fighting stance.

He cocked a dark brow. "I will not strike a lady," he said with a twitch of his lips.

She thought over how to explain what she wanted. "You no strike. Stop strike and hold me." She sighed. That didn't sound quite right.

His brows drew together. "You do not wish me to strike you, but you want me to prevent you from striking me? To hold you down if need be?"

She smiled; her glowing, silver eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes, Davor. Come to me."

He unbuckled his swords and set them aside. He then removed his armor and faced her in his undersuit. He watched as her armor was replaced by the outfit she'd used to sleep in. He focused solely on her..her every movement, awaiting a sign..a tell. When she did move, it was nearly too quick to be seen, but he brought an arm up in time to deflect a blow. His arm shot out to encircle her waist and he found himself flying over her shoulder and landing flat on his back. He flowed to his feet, his gaze not leaving her. He still had no clue how he'd ended up taking a dirt bath.

This time he came at her. She ducked low, her leg shot out in a sweeping motion. He jumped just in time to prevent his legs from being knocked out from under him. He reached for her arm when her body turned, she pivoted and her other leg landed square against his back and fell forward onto his hands and knees. She was good and he was at a disadvantage. He couldn't bring himself to risk hurting her and he was unfamiliar to her fighting style. Next time she was close enough, he would forget defense and just grab her. At this point it was his only hope of taking her down.

She ran towards him, jumped and aimed a two footed kick at his chest, when it connected she pushed off his chest, sent him stumbling backwards, and dropped down to her hands to flip away.

His hand had skimmed down the slick material of her pants, but she was gone before he could grip tight. Distance had become his enemy. To give her distance was to give her ammunition. He charged her.

She watched as he came at her, when his arms went up she placed one hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder, pushed off, spread her legs, wrapped them around his neck and twisted her body as she fell. She gave a slight pull with her power, because she didn't want to break his neck. He flipped over, landed solidly on his back, her thighs still squeezing his neck.

"I'll forgive your use of power, it assuredly saved my neck." He turned his head, his chin brushed against the apex of her thighs. Her scent nearly drove him over the edge of reason. "Angel…" he murmured.

She caught sight of the heat the burned in his glowing, amber eyes. Her thighs loosened and she scooted back. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. The last move was not well thought out. She hadn't meant to tease him, not in that way. Not that he wasn't appealing. He was an attractive man, he was kind, compassionate, gentle, and generous, everything a woman could want in a man, but he was also her only friend here. Her best friend here and she could not bear to risk losing someone who had come to mean so much to her. She'd be lost without him. Too, her heart was not free to give. Kael would come for her; it was only a matter of time.

He rose and helped her up. "You have no reason to be sorry. I need to…bathe. Give me a moment, then we'll be on our way." He turned towards the stream and did not look back. He pulled off his shirt, stepped out of his breeches and walked out into the cold bite of the stream. His problem took care of itself.

Her expression was troubled as she watched him walk away. She hoped she had not ruined things with him. She did not want to lose the comfortable companionship they'd found in each other. For just a moment she admired his firm ass before she cleared her throat and turned away. She packed up their supplies, rolled up the blanket and tied it to the back of Spook's saddle. She was buckling her sword harness when she heard him return. His ready smiles sent a wave of relief through her.

"I've never seen anyone fight as you do. It was impressive to watch.." His gaze turned to the horses, something was agitating them. He caught sight of the pack of wolves that slunk out of the trees. He withdrew his steel sword.

His movements drew her attention to the wolves. He would slay them for no better reason than they were there? "No!" She flashed to the middle of the pack and held up her hand. "We do not wish to hurt you. There is nothing here for you. Move on and attack no human unless they attack first. Go in peace." With a sigh of relief she watched the wolves slink back into the woods as if they had never been there. "Violence is not always required."

He slid the sword back into its scabbard. "I do not understand what you said, but hear me out. It is true you saved those wolves when you sent them away, but there is a contract out on them. They've been killing off livestock the poor need to survive. Without that livestock, they will starve. Wolves in the wild are fine, but when they stray too close to the settlements and develop a taste for easy prey and the taste for human, elf or dwarf flesh, they become a danger that must be eliminated."

She had not fully understood. She had not included anything about attacking livestock, it was a concept she was not familiar with. "They will not attack any humans unless the humans attack first." It was little consolation, but it was something.

He shook his head. "What?"

She sighed; there was really no hope for it. It was obvious there would be times they needed to communicate better than she was capable of at this point…and if those times were to involve safety measures. "I give you talk."

"Give me talk?" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Angel, I do not know what that means." It was the most bizarre thing he'd ever heard.

She stepped forward and placed her fingertips at his temple imparting the memory of her language. Her hand slipped to the nape of his neck and she raised herself onto the tips of her toes and brushed her lips against his. She felt his arms slip around her as his mouth opened to deepen the kiss. Her tongue slid along his giving it the muscle memory it needed. It was weird, but the only way she knew how to give the full memory of her language. She'd never done it before, of course, there'd been no need. She could only hope that it worked or she will have made things even more awkward between them for no reason. She pulled back and placed the fingers of her other hand against his lips. "Do you understand me now?" she asked quietly.

There had been a buzzing in his head and then her lips blotted it out, he'd fallen into the kiss like a starving man. Wanting more…needing more, but the press of her fingers stilled him. He knew he could make her happy, if she would only let him in. He wanted to walk the path at her side...he wanted…her words filtered through. "I do," he said in wonder.

She grinned, relieved it had worked. "I know you have a lot of questions. I'll answer what I'm able to during our journey….just please…not all at once."

"So that is what you meant by 'give me talk'?"

"I wanted to learn as much of your language as I could before I gave you the tongue of my people, because your brain will respond to the language that it was addressed in, making it hard for me to learn more of your language from you. But what happened with the wolves… I realized there would be times that you needed more than…baby talk from me." She sighed. "I had not taken all of that into consideration with the wolves, because I lacked the knowledge to make an educated decision. I only thought to prevent violence if it were not needed…I regret that now. I have put others in danger and wish to correct that. Can we find them again?"

The tongue of her people. So that was why she'd kissed him. He had hoped for more. Regardless, he had no intension of stopping his wooing of her until such a time as she told him too or it was obvious her heart lie elsewhere. But even if friends were all they would ever be, he would be content with that, so long as she remained in his life. He felt closer to her than even Teltin and couldn't bear the loss. They say that witcher's don't feel, but that is not the case at all. Just because one is good at killing and can kill easily, does not mean they cannot feel. In some regards they feel more, for they have more regrets. It is true that some witchers burry their emotions because they cannot bear the weight of the guilt and regret, but others choose to maintain that shred of who they were. "Knowledge is key to making proper choices, I will make sure that I share what knowledge I have with you so it does not happen again. As to tracking the beasts, that is part of a witcher's job and we are good at it. Look down at the ground around you. This time don't just look at it with your eyes, but look at it with your senses."

She looked down at the ground. Using her senses was second hand to her. But what did surprise her was that there was a new edge to her senses. Footprints glowed a fiery red. "My senses are better than any other being's and still they have never done that!" She smiled and took off after the tracks. She weaved between the trees, the trail a fiery path leading her through the forest and to a clearing where she caught sight of a man stabbing a pitchfork at a wolf who was distracting him while the rest were going after a horse. She could hear a child screaming for her father from inside the house. This was her doing. She flashed to the horse's side, lowered her hands and signed the aard gesture with each; a powerful burst sent the wolves yipping, flying head over arse backwards…and conveniently straight into Davor's slashing sword.

The wolf that had been distracting the man was only caught by the edge of the wave and turned his attention to her, the bigger threat. She withdrew her steel sword and stepped away from both beast and man, drawing the wolf with her. "I am sorry…be free, my friend." Her blade sang out, the wolf's head and body parting ways. She closed her eyes briefly, but they snapped open and she spun around, blade arching out, another head tumbled to the ground. She bent over and sucked in a breath, trying to keep her gorge down but she straightened when she felt a comforting hand on her back.

"I'll be damned… a witcher that cannot stand the sight of blood," the man said with a warm smile.

"She is a new witcher, she will get used to it," Davor assured the man.

"That is…unfortunate." The man cleared his throat. "We don't have much coin to spare, but my wife Sarah's a good cook and can rustle you up some vittles to take with you…as meaningful as any gold when your belly's aching."

"Of course, kind sir. The food would see us well."

The man nodded and opened the door. "Sarah, love. Two sacks of vittles to go for the witchers what saved our Bessie."

"Right as rain, Sam," Sarah replied as she started gathering the food up for the witchers. "Witchers in these parts, who'd have thunk?" she murmured.

She tied the bags up and handed them to her daughter. "Scoot along now, Tamra, and see the witchers off with their vittles."

"Yes, mama." She skipped to the front door and slipped out into afternoon sun. She held her arms out proudly as she looked up at the two witchers. "Oooh…such pretty eyes. Can I be a witcher too?"

Syntl took the pouch. "Thank you, Tamra." She turned to Davor. "Tell her that her destiny lies elsewhere, to keep her chin up and her eyes open so that she doesn't miss it when it comes for her."

He nodded and squatted down, repeating the words he'd been given. With her chin up and eyes sparkling, he bid the little girl farewell. He picked up the head of the fallen pack leader and tied it to her saddle. They waved to the father as they trotted past. He was already skinning the wolves.

"Why did you tie that head to my saddle?" The whole idea of it was really creepy.

"We fulfilled a contract. Witchers get paid for solving problems normal folk cannot. But we need proof of the deed to get the coin. Since you took him down, the trophy and coin are yours," he said matter of fact. "We have one more stop and then we will head back to town to collect our coin then head off to see the blacksmith."

"Is this 'one more stop' another contract?" she asked curiously.

"It is," he said with a nod. "There's a cave that needs cleaning out. Are you up for it?" he asked quietly with concern.

"As in the other option is leaving me behind at some camp while you take it alone?" she asked with the arch of a brow.

"It is," he affirmed, watching her closely.

"Then I'm up for it," she said matter of fact.

He grabbed her rein and pulled their horses to a stop. "Look, I know that was hard on you, Angel. The first kill is never easy. We are pushed for time or I would wait with you."

"It's not that. It was the nature of the kill, not the kill itself. I've killed before, but never like that. I kill cleanly, that was…messy. But it is more than that. Those wolves were forced into to what they became. Humans encroached on their land, forcing them onto lands defended by other wolves. Those packs forced them back into their old lands and thus the conflict for survival began. It was the humans who brought this down on themselves; it was the wolves that paid the ultimate price for human greed. It's not right."

"No, it isn't," he said quietly. "Seldom is life fair and even more rare are choices that are black or white. Too often even the good choices have bad consequences. You could save a woman from a burning hut, only to arrive too late to save a group of children from being raped and killed. You didn't know the children needed saving until it was too late. All you can do is your best and hope the fates are not cruel." He released her rein and they moved out.

She frowned. She knew it was unreasonable for everyone to have a happy ending. But the romantic in her would fight on. "That was disturbing, Davor. And cynical. But I can see the wisdom of your words. Fates, however, have no sway over me. I am…outside of their bailiwick."

"I don't know if that makes you the luckiest woman I've known or the unluckiest," he said quietly.

"I wonder that too at times."

"Why do you say you are beyond the fates? Normally, it is a thing only madmen bellow about," he asked curiously.

One corner of her mouth twitched. "My people were around far longer than any gods or fates."

His gaze lingered on her profile. "Who are your people?"

She hesitated a moment and sighed. "Kin."

"Kin," he repeated. "I've never heard of them."

"No, you wouldn't. We only come to observe and then leave, leaving little behind to show for our time here."

"Why do you observe us?"

"To tend the garden." She sighed. "Please know, I am being purposely vague. I'm not sure I have the right to talk about that, so I won't."

"Fair enough. So you are here to observe us?"

She flushed. "No, though I suppose I will since I am here. But I came here by accident. The gateway malfunctioned. Until it is repaired I am stuck here."

Was his time with her really so limited? "How long do you think you will be stuck here?"

"Time is different between your realm and mine. A day in my time could be a hundred years in yours. I don't know the exact of it. It was an impulsive, childish thing I did. I hopped the gateway for fun; I didn't study what it was linked to."

"Gateway…is that like a sorceress' portal?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what a sorceress' portal is, Davor. Our Gateways take us to many different places."

He could remember her arrival as if it had just happened. "It tore open the heavens and you fell through."

She flushed. "Not my best entrance," she admitted. "Took every bit of energy I had not to end up a greasy smear on a rock."

He bit back the words of another apology. "You said the Kin were older than the gods..than the fates. How old are they?"

"The Kin were born from the dark matter that created all the galaxies…all the planets. And when they were ready, the Kin seeded those planets, brought life to them."

The concept was dizzying. It was beyond his ken of understanding. "So there are other planets, near and far…other peoples on them?"

"Yes. There are an untold number of galaxies, most have several systems, each system the home of a star and its planets."

As hard as her story was to believe, not for a moment did he doubt the truthfulness of it. "Fantasical! I cannot even imagine…."Another thought occurred to him. "How old are you?" He flushed. That was not something a gentleman asked of a lady.

"That is relative," she said with a giggle. "I'm immortal. In my time I'm a young adult. In your time I'd be at least several hundred to several thousand years old. I would be more precise, but I leapt before I looked," she said, teasing herself.

He chuckled. "Better to laugh at yourself than to let anyone else."

"Precisely," she said with a smile.

He pointed to the left. "There. See those men? That is where we must go. Are you sure you want to go in with me? I will not think less of you if you wish to remain outside the cave and protect the men from anything that flees from me."

She looked at his straight, serious expression and a light laugh escaped from her lips. "Trying to protect me gallant knight? I appreciate the gesture, but I wish to remain at your side."

Her words warmed his heart. "You will always be welcome at my side, Angel."

She tilted her head. "Why do you keep calling me angel?"

He released a breath. "I did not start it, blame the old man. But he was right; you are as beautiful as an angel in both looks and deed…."

Were all men of this age so romantic and flowery? "But…"

He released a breath and flushed. "Your name…what people think of when they hear it…it is wicked, sinful..evil…everything you are not. It would color their opinion of you; probably do as much damage as if you told them you were a sorceress or a demon. It is best were you to use a different name while you are here," he admitted.

Her jaw fell open and then slammed shut. Of all the backwards, idiotic, superstitious…she sighed. The times were not her own. No need making things harder for herself than they need to be. "But angel? I'm no angel."

"Are you not? You are golden..ethereal…You fell from the heavens …your heart and soul are pure, filled with compassion and tenderness and should there also be a righteous fury within you, well that that too is considered angelic."

Her hand covered her mouth to still the laughter. "That is fanciful rubbish."

His brows drew together. "Rubbish?" He may understand her language, but some of the words were still foreign to him.

"Tripe…" she corrected.

He looked at her intently for a moment. Perhaps she did not see in herself what others did. Though, it did not matter. She did not have to believe to make it so. "I do not believe it is…rubbish. Those with a good heart often judge themselves too harshly and thus cannot see the truth. Whether you believe the rubbish or not, others do. You saw how easily the name was given and accepted by the others. The name gives them a sense of safety and acceptance. Do not be so quick to take that from those you meet, the name will serve you well. If they trust you they are far more likely to accept you than spit on you. Trust me in this."

It didn't sit well with her. "It seems like a form of manipulation….to believe something that is not true."

His smile was warm. "As I said, _you_ do not have to believe to make it so. If the name gives them strength and hope, is that so wrong? Especially in a world where hope can be so distant as to be unattainable. The mind is a powerful thing, Angel. If we believe nothing can ever change, than we will never strive for change. If we have hope…if we believe…then we unconsciously take the steps needed to help foster change."

"You have a way with words, Davor. You should have gone into politics," she teased.

He shuddered. She'd hit the nail on the head. He was the eldest son of a nobleman. He would have had political power had he not been given to the witchers. He had been a child given by the Law of Surprise. An unexpected child. The repayment of a debt. That was how he came to be a witcher. "I am but a humble witcher, my lady."

The nobleman turned at the sound of the approaching horses. He eyed the pair carefully. They each carried dual swords upon their backs. Witchers. "Have you come because of my post?"

"We have…if the price is right," he said evenly.

"300, take it or leave it," the nobleman said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"800, take it or leave it," Davor countered, his gaze hard as steel.

The nobleman's eyes narrowed. "I will not pay that price. Be gone with you."

Davor shrugged. "Come, Angel. We are not needed here."

She turned Titan around and followed. "Why did you turn the job down? Don't we need the money?"

"We do," he said evenly. "But jobs are not always easy to come by. The man is a nobleman; you can see it in his stance, in the clothing he wears. He has money - that much is obvious. For him to seek something out in that cave then likely it is because it is extremely valuable. He loses nothing paying what I ask and stands to gain a great deal. Five..four…three…"

"Wait!" the nobleman cried out. "I shall agree to your terms. Make the cave safe and you will receive the price you ask." He could not afford wasting more lives, but nor could he leave until he'd retrieved what was in the cave. It was a stipulation of his marriage contract. His heart froze when they didn't stop. "Witchers! 1000! You must help!"

Davor reined his horse around and returned from the nobleman. "I do not like my time wasted," he said coldly.

"I can see that." The nobleman cleared his throat to regain his composure. "Just clear out the cave and you will get your just reward."

He dismounted. "Come, Angel, let us get this done." At the mouth of the cave he withdrew a potion from his pouch and downed it. He held one out to her.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Cat's eye potion, it will help you see in total darkness."

She smiled. "I have no need of it. I will see fine…but thank you."

He was silent for a moment and then nodded, stepping into the cave. "Notice, the cave is unnaturally dark. No light filters through the cave entrance." Her silvery eyes glowed nearly white in the dark. Intriguing. "Notice the bodies, both ancient and fresh. The entity within has been at this for countless ages. Do you smell that?"

"Yes," she said wrinkling her nose. "It is horrible." She waved her hand the scent of roses permeated the air, but the rot beneath was not completely hidden.

"Thank you, at least it takes the edge off." They moved deeper into the cave and shivered. "Unnaturally cold. Use your senses, you can see the blood and claw marks. This cave is a bloodbath. I doubt any that have entered have ever survived. Perhaps it's a twisted spirit, one who died here under great duress…but that doesn't feel right….doesn't smell right…maybe a demon."

"A demon…those exist?" she asked in surprise.

"They are rare, or at least rarely found…but they do exist and they feed off the living….physically, mentally...until there is nothing left."

"We don't have any such thing where I come from.." she said softly.

"If they were created from man's hubris, then I doubt you would have come across one."

"By man, you mean human?"

"I mean the sentient beings of this realm. Humans, elves, dwarves…look…the path we follow ends at the pool of water. My guess is we will find the entrance to his lair beneath the water. Can you swim?"

"Yes, but why has it not come for us as it did the others?"

That too had been a concern of his. "Maybe it is exhausted, or maybe it senses something different about us and is hiding…or maybe it knows we have to get closer..the closer we are the stronger its power is. Regardless, we cannot let it survive."

There was no doubt in her mind. The evil must end. "Agreed." She dove into the pool. It was far deeper than it appeared. She chose to hold her breath. Kin could adapt and breathe any atmosphere, including water, but the idea of swallowing a demon's fetid pool water had no appeal to her. She pulled up long enough to make sure he was following and dove deeper when she caught sight of a crevice. Once through to the other side she followed the top of the cave until it opened up. She rose to the surface and sucked in a deep breath and choked. The air here was foul and it was cold enough to see her breath. She swam to the edge and pulled herself up.

Davor wished he could have been in the lead. Despite her power, he was the experienced one. He rose from the water, trying not to throw up from the stench in the air. That is when he saw her. Angel beckoning to him…slowly removing her clothing, desire hot in her eyes. Desire replaced by fear as a huge, slavering beast with long talons approached her. He pulled his sword as wicked claws raked through her body, blood spilling from the mortal wounds, the raw agony in her eyes… her screams more than he could bear. "It is something akin to a nightmare demon…taking what you love most in the world and twisting it." He looked to the woman beside him and saw only the slavering beast, blood dripping from claw and maw. "It showed me someone I care deeply for getting torn to shreds by a beast and when I look at you all I see is the beast that took that life. It wants me to kill you. But I know it for what it is and it has no power over me." He fought to relax the grip he had on his sword.

"But I see the horror in your face, the pain in your eyes…the strain in your voice…you felt everything it showed you."

"I did.." he said through a tight throat. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," she said quietly.

"It takes what it needs from the mind or maybe the soul, I'm not sure. Perhaps it cannot understand what it sees in you. What you are…what you've seen makes no sense to it. For that I am glad. I do not want you to see…"

"Wait…I see shadows…it's trying to put something together…men, women, children…impaled on spikes…being burnt alive…it's changing…men on horses…cold…death follows…chasing…forever chasing…a girl…she disappears…death follows…rivers of blood…it's changing…a man.." she sucked in her breath harshly as her heart clenched painfully. "hair in a ponytail…a…a witcher…" her words came to a stop as she watched herself walk into his arms, but she was torn from them, she could hear the flap of wings that carried her away…could hear the agony of his cry as he dropped down to his knees..then it ended. "I think he lost something he cared a great deal for." She knew it was not actually her; the demon must have imposed her there, because the man was no one she knew. "None of it makes any sense. It was nothing I feared or loved…it was like it was showing me the past or the future...but not my past. Can a demon show the future?"

"Possibly, if it were strong enough. Perhaps it.."

"Stop guessing my intensions!" said a deep, rumbling voice. "Who are you? What are you? Why have you entered my lair?"

"We are witchers, here for your death," Davor stated coldly.

"You are nothing!" the demon said as it stepped forward.

"Geralt!" Davor said in shock.

"You sought to find me, now you have," he said with a laugh. He turned his attention to the woman. "What are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. She had no intension of letting the demon know anything about her. "A nightmare you will never awake from."

"That is very unkind of you," he said in a husky, desire filled voice. "You would kill the man you love?"

She grinned coldly. "I don't even know you." She brought her hand to his temple and sent her own vision. One of laughter, love, rainbows and children skipping hand in hand through the flowers, with a burst of power she sealed away his other memories.

The demon stumbled backwards clutching its head in its hands. It became a small child, tears streaming down its cheeks. "Why do you wish to hurt me so? Please make it stop. I'll do anything you ask…give you anything you seek."

She smiled. "I knew we could work something out."

The little boy grinned. This he was used to. "What do you seek?"

She nodded to Davor. "Your death."

The little boy's mouth dropped open a moment before his head tumbled to the ground.

Davor pulled a folded skin from his pouch and tied the head up with it. He could not bring himself to touch the malignant monstrosity. He signed igni and the body burst into flames. "We are done here," he said hoarsely. "Why did the demon say you loved Geralt?"

"That confused me too. I've never met the man. You and Ivanth are the only witchers I've met. You were with me, he could hardly use you and if he saw my memories, he'd know I had no love for Ivanth. But I can't say why he'd choose someone I'd never met. He used him in my vision too; he was the witcher I saw."

Davor frowned. "Maybe your vision was for my benefit."

"What do you mean?"

"Geralt is my friend. He is a member of the Wolf school. It is where I'm taking us. They are the most likely to take us in. But you need to be careful around Geralt. He is a….rake."

She frowned. "A garden tool?"

Davor flushed. "He…er…goes through women quickly."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Ew…he's a man-whore. But why would that cause you concern?"

"Because I fear he will take one look at your beauty and will want to add you as another notch on his belt," he said honestly.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not so weak as to fall for just any man's charms. I will give myself to love..to my husband and nothing less."

"You're a…" Davor flushed scarlet and a hand flew to his mouth to cut off his words.

"A virgin? Yes. Is that so hard to come by here?" she asked curiously.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Actually it is. The poor often have to sell their children off or they are abused by bandits or noblemen alike…and the nobles? They are quite free with themselves, though some still proclaim a purity long since gone."

"Well then, I shall be on my guard. I have no intension of becoming a virgin sacrifice," she teased.

"I would never let that happen to you," he said, his voice dead serious with an underlying steel.

"I am lucky to have you in my life," she lowered her hand and moved towards the pool.

No, it was he who was the lucky one. But he did not miss the fact that the conversation had been neatly steered away from Geralt. "Just be careful around him."

"I will," she said softly. The man was really no concern of hers. He could never take what she was unwilling to give.

"I have no desire to go through that pool again, especially with a gory, bleeding head, do you?" she asked sliding him a look.

"Well, no…but I don't know of any other way to get back." It was senseless to wish for something that…

She held out her hand to him. "Take my hand. I will take us there." When his hand was in hers she flashed them near the mouth of the cave. "You realize he intends to kill us?"

He frowned and held up his hand. "Give me a moment. What was that?"

Her lips twitched and she ran a hand through her golden hair. "Sorry, it comes natural to me, so I don't think about it. It's called flashing. I can flash anywhere I want, though I will only go to places I've been before. It makes travel quick and efficient."

"Can you not just flash home then?" Not that he wanted her to leave. That was the last thing he wanted.

"No," she said, her tone somber. "It is not that simple. A gateway must be used to get home. It is the only way in or out of…my home."

As selfish as it was, he was content with her answer. "Back to them killing us….Why do you say that? I've found most people to be honorable at least when it comes to paying their debts to a witcher."

Did he really not know? "'You shall have your just rewards'…that always means death. So we have two options. We can either kill them all when the trap is sprung or I can freeze them, you can drop the head at their feet and take the money that is owed to us. I'll release them when we are far enough away." She placed a hand on his arm. "You should know…I don't feel evil in his heart…just desperation."

He sighed."You don't want to kill them."

"No," she said quietly. "I know that it is possible that future desperation could lead to another evil deed, but I also know that he may never find himself in this type of situation again. To kill someone for something they _might_ do later doesn't feel right. Do you know him? Do you know of his deeds?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head.

"Then I say let him live. If I have cause to regret it later, then I will hunt him down," she said matter of fact.

" _We_ will hunt him down," he corrected.

"We," she amended. "Now let us collect our just reward," she said with a smile.

Sunlight now filtered through the opening of the cave, the cave was free. This..this felt good. In truth, once he knew what it was, he'd have done it without pay. But he wasn't too sure he could have done it without Angel's help. The demon had had more sway over him than he cared to admit, though he was able to stay his sword. The first thing he noticed when he exited the cave were the men frozen in place. A few stood on each side of the cave, weapons ready.

He dropped the head at the nobleman's feet and searched his body until he found his coin purse. He took only the amount promised to him and then grinned when he found a red ribbon. He plucked a feather from the man's hat and pricked the man's palm with his knife. Since the wound did not bleed, it would make a nice inkwell. He pulled the map out the man had used to locate the cave and flipped it over. He began to write.

 _Angel saved your life this day. Think carefully before choosing to betray a witcher, for she will not be there to save you next time._

He tied the red ribbon around the man's throat and tucked the corner of the map under the bagged head so it would not blow away. Angel was already mounted and waiting for him. He settled himself in the saddle and they hit the road at a canter.

"What was that all about? I mean, I caught the symbolism of the red ribbon, but what did you write?"

He grinned. "With any luck, I put the fear of god in him...or at least the fear of a witcher. I just wanted him to think twice about betraying a witcher again."

"Good thinking. We make a great team. Are we heading back to the village now?" she asked.

"We do, indeed," he agreed. "And yes, we are. But I intend for us to cut through the forest. It is the quickest way back and I want us on our way posthaste. In all likelihood we will have to wait a day or two for the blacksmith to forge your swords. If there are any contracts, we can take them while we wait…if not, the time is ours. But the sooner we can leave the better. I am a relatively new witcher and your instruction is best left to a master and the tomes you will have access to at the keep will show you far more than I could ever tell you." He pointed to the edge of the forest. "Once we enter the forest, move as fast as you can, unless you care to fight off everything that seeks to prey on us."

"Of course not. We would be in their home, it would be very rude for us to kill them," she admonished.

He grinned. "I thought you would feel that way."

"You were teasing me!"

"Quite so," he said with a wink. "Are you ready?" he asked as they approached the tree line.

"Run like the wind, Titan…but don't lose sight of Spook!" She grinned when the stallion tossed his head and pranced.

"Spook may not have your stallion's reach, but he'll keep up. Now!" he said and put his heels to his gelding's ribs.

They raced through the trees, bent low over their horses' necks, avoiding branches and trunks by a breath. The creak of leather, the howling of wolves and the harsh breathing of their horses drowned out the other sounds of the forest. The sun's rays no more than a teasing glimpse between the threes.

Syntl gave the stallion his head and focused on remaining in the saddle. Her legs gripped him and her hand held a death grip on the saddle's pommel. Despite the fear of losing her seat, the wind rushing through her hair was exhilarating.

When they exited the trees, they slowed their horses to canter until they stopped blowing, before slowing them further. "What did you do to the demon?" he asked curiously.

She studied him a moment before she replied. "I gave him a taste of his own medicine. A nightmare. I gave him a memory of rainbows and flowers and giggling children and then I sealed off his other memories, so that was all he could see."

His mouth opened, clamped shut and then he laughed. "A nightmare indeed to one such as he….and a perfect distraction, I might add." His voice dropped lower. "I doubt you will ever stop surprising me, Angel."

"Probably not," she said with a grin.

"Here we are. Now we just need to locate this Jorik person," he informed her.

Questioning the townsfolk led them to the poster. He handed over the wolf's head, which would be stuffed and mounted in the man's home, and then handed her the 300 gold for the contract. They purchased food for the trail and headed out.

"Is this a witcher's life," she asked, "moving from town to town, killing along the way?"

"Pretty much. Though many of us choose to return to the keep for the winter. We tell stories, drink, relax, do upkeep, more studying, if we've a mind. A relative period of calm before the snows melt." He was quiet for a moment. "For some it is too much and they fall off the path. We never hear from them again. But the job can be rewarding, if you do not mind being underappreciated. We save lives. But folks don't like that we expect pay for our deeds. Without that pay we would starve, so we've little choice in the matter."

"Has anyone ever tried to explain it to them? It doesn't seem very difficult to understand." And why wouldn't they innately understand? Who can survive without getting paid?

"I'm sure they have. But imagine having to do it over and over again to each person they meet? At some point they'd get tired of having to explain things." He shrugged. "At some point…why bother?"

She hadn't considered that. "Point taken. Are you speaking from experience?"

"I am," he said quietly. He glanced over at her. "Can you tell me more about your home?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, that I'm not at liberty to say, at least not too many specifics and not where it's located. But I will say it's in between. It's unlike anything you could imagine. The closest comparison I can come up that you might understand is that it looks similar to everything is made from shiny black marble. There are other planets that are full of life, but I rarely visited them. Out there," she said pointing up, "there are ships that fly across the skies. We don't have a lot of them, because we seldom used them. Our gateways take us to where we need to go. We have..um…glowing bubbles that take us through the vacuum of space short distances, if needed. We can breathe all atmospheres, our bodies adjust, but even we cannot breathe where there is no atmosphere. It will not kill us, but it is uncomfortable."

She was right; it was like nothing he could imagine. "Ships in the sky….I imagine they do not look like the ships we have to cross the waters..how do you power them?"

"I don't think they do? I've never seen one of your water ships. But they are powered via dark energy." She didn't think letting him know that was wrong, they were a long way from space travel. And Kin were the only beings that could safely harness and manipulate dark energy.

A shiver raced down his spine. "Dark energy..that sounds ominous..evil."

Her laugh was light and lilting. "Not at all..or maybe it is more accurate to say not to us. Don't forget we were born of dark matter, so dark energy is akin to our own physiology."

This was all so much to wrap his head around. Things he knew nothing about. "So these bubbles you talked about, they are powered by dark energy as well?"

"Yes, though in a pinch we can power them with the energy stored within our own bodies. It's not a comfortable experience – or so I've been told. This is the first time I've ever left our…realm." Talking about home made her heart ache.

"Your people…amazing. You know, you could be like gods to us. Why is it you are not?" he asked curiously.

She was shocked. No Kin would ever stoop so low. "We do not aim to rule others. We are silent observers; we do not want nor expect tribute. We just tend the garden we have grown. The seedlings deign their own fate. We intervene only if there is no choice. I can say nothing more about that."

"Seedlings?" It was as if she was discussing a…garden.

She grinned. "I'm sorry; it's not meant as an insult, it was a descriptive term. Kin seeded the galaxies..all that grow from the seedings are considered seedlings."

Well, that wasn't very flattering. His world…other worlds..they were a garden for some super beings…he was naught more than what? A weed? "That's not very flattering, you know. To be naught more than a weed to some super being." But if she was right, if the Kin never deigned to seed the worlds, they would not exist. What was better? To exist at someone's whim or not to exist at all? Knowledge was both a blessing and a curse. But he had asked and this was the consequence. A wise man once said 'be careful what you wish for.' "Do they have anything like horses where you come from?"

"No," she said regretfully. "We don't have animals, at least nothing like what I've seen here. I will miss my boy when I go," she said patting the stallion's neck. She blinked when Titan came to a standstill and turned his head to look at her. "None of that…there are no green hills, no mares where I live. You wouldn't be happy there." He stamped a hoof and shook his head, his mane whipping about. "Titan…" His soft lips played with her leg. She sighed. "Fine, if they let me, I will bring you. But no promises. They will not see you as a sentient being, but an animal..and that may be your only way in." His ears whipped back and he flicked his tail in annoyance. "That is not an insult. If they believed you were more than just an animal, they would not allow you at all." She patted his neck to reassure him. But she doubted horses would live long enough for that to even matter. Days, weeks, decades, centuries..she had no way of knowing how long her stay here would be.

'I'll be…" he shook his head. "He loves you. A stallion choosing a woman over mares. I never thought I'd see that happen."

Her lips drew into a soft smile. "That, my friend, is unconditional love. To be with me, remain by my side and not expect anything in return for his favor. At least I know his love for me is pure. He has no ulterior motive; he just wants to be with me."

"I take it that has not always been the case?" he asked quietly.

Her smile slipped. "My mother is a high ranking Council member."

"Ahhh…much like a prince or princess here…suitors would seek the benefits of said rank. So there is no one special back there?"

Her cheeks pinkened. "Kael. His father is High Council….head of the Council. It is expected that we will wed."

"Expected…" he said slowly. "So you do not love him?"

"Of course I love him. We grew up together. We've always been there for each other; he's even taken the fall for me a time or ten."

"It almost sounds like a close friend or a brother, the way you speak of him," he said cautiously.

She shook her head. "It's not like that. We've stolen kisses and more, we just haven't…"

"Why not?" he asked curiously. Normally, that was not something he'd ever ask a lady, but their relationship had passed that point.

She felt the heat bite at her cheeks. "I was going to…I pushed him into a game of catch me if you can…when he caught me….but then the portal malfunctioned. It seems it will be awhile before he will be able to collect his reward."

Davor had to admit he was okay with that. It gave him more time to woo Angel's heart. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that…I'm not exactly eager to see you off," he admitted.

"I understand. I'm not exactly eager to go. I mean, don't get me wrong. I miss the comforts..the people of home, but this is an adventure I'm not ready to give up. Besides, there are things I would miss here as well."

"Me?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Of course, you! You are the only one I'd miss here so far."

He grinned and pulled Titan to a stop. He leaned over, cupped the back of her neck and captured her mouth. When her lips parted in a gasp, he could not resist temptation. His tongue swept into the heat of her mouth, teasing and seducing until she surrendered with a moan. He felt her fingertips sink into his hair.

Titan pranced to the side breaking the kiss. She brought her fingers to her lips. "What brought that on?" she asked curiously.

He pointed up. "It is customary to kiss under mistletoe. It is also used in potions and oils, but I much prefer the former."

She laughed, she couldn't help it. "Then I will have to be careful who I step under mistletoe with. …You are very good at kissing," she admitted.

He released her rein with a sigh. "Apparently not good enough or you would be in my lap," he teased. "It would seem more practice is in order."

She did enjoy herself, but she couldn't bear to lose what they had…and there was Kael to think about. "And if I didn't have to worry about losing what we have, I might just agree." She winked at him and urged Titan onward.

She had a point. She had become a part of his life he didn't want to lose. He didn't want to go back to a life without Angel. But would he be able to stay if she found happiness with someone besides him? Were they just friends, it wouldn't matter, so long as the man treated her right. But somewhere along the way he'd fallen in love with her. He wasn't sure if he could withstand the pain of seeing her with another. Until such a time, he would continue to woo her; it was too late for him to do anything less. He put his heels to his gelding's ribs and caught up with her.

"He doesn't like that, you know," she said quietly. "He'd prefer you to squeeze with your knees than kick him in the ribs."

It took him a moment to realize she was referring to Spook. He rubbed the gelding's neck. "Sorry boy, I'll try to keep that in mind."

-BREAK FOUR-

They rode into the night and made camp. They unsaddled the horsed and brushed them down. While he found stones for the pit and made a fire she laid out the food they'd been given earlier. She removed her swords and took their skins to the stream. He was already seated at the camp fire when she returned. She noticed he'd already spread their blankets out next to each other and their saddles at the head as some sort of backrest or pillow. She'd have never thought to do that.

He smiled at her and reached into his saddlebags to pull out a bottle and two silver goblets. "I thought it might be nice to have something other than water with our dinner." He popped the cork, filled a goblet and handed it to her and then filled his own.

As he ate he watched her do the same. He cleared his throat. "This is not a question I would normally ask of a lady, but I noticed you never have need of the – er…privy, yet you eat and drink like anyone." He could feel the heat sting his cheeks.

She laughed lightly. "I imagine that does seem a bit odd. My body burns hotter than yours. It takes the energy from what I ingest, it wastes nothing. There is simply nothing left over."

"I envy you that. If I never had to visit another privy…my nose would think it'd died and gone to heaven. As it is, I'm just grateful to have my rose lady along," he said with a chuckle.

When they finished their meal, he tied up what was left over to keep the scavengers out and poured them each another glass of wine. He leaned back against his saddle, put his arm around her and pulled her up against his side. He felt her go still for a moment and then relax.

"It is breathtaking when there are no clouds to hide the beauty of the sky," she said softly.

He made a noise of agreement. "May we have many more nights like this."

After a bit her body slumped more heavily against him and it warmed his heart. He wriggled them down until his head could rest comfortably against his saddle and pulled her to him so her head could rest on his chest. He pulled a blanket up over them and then drew her palm up to his heart and covered her hand with his.

He came awake in the pre-dawn light when he felt her crawl on top of him. He'd been dreaming of making love to her and he was heavy and ready for her. His hands slid down her ass, squeezed it and rocked her against his hard length. He thrust against her, grinding himself against her sensitive flesh.

A moan slipped from her lips as she woke up. She could feel the heat of his body beneath her and the delicious friction. She froze a moment before she rolled off of him, grinding her thighs together to relieve the ache. When he turned on his side to face her she could see the heat and hunger in his glowing eyes. "I'm sorry, Davor. I do not want to risk what we have. You're my best friend and I love you, I don't ever want to lose that."

She loved him. That was something. "It is not any physical act that changes friendships. I've know many friends who were intimate and then went on to marry other without hurting their friendship. It is not the physical acts that changes things, it is the heart. And you already have mine. I'm in love with you, Angel. I'm not an ignorant boy. I know you do not quite feel the same for me. I hope to change that in time. But if not, if Kael comes for you or if you fall in love with another, I'll not stand in your way. I won't lie, it will hurt, but it will hurt regardless whether there is any intimacy between us. But it will not stop my love for you or my friendship. You will always hold a place in my heart."

"Your words touch me, but I don't want to lose my virginity…"her words trailed off and she looked away from his glowing eyes.

"Angel, my love, look at me." When her glowing silver eyes met his once more he placed her palm over his racing heart. "I give you my pledge, my vow, that I will not take your innocence until you give me leave to. There is much pleasure we can give each other, we do not need to take that step until you are ready. I will not push you for it, I promise you this. Let me love you, Angel. Let me make your body sing."

She swallowed hard. "I umm…let me think on your words. I'll be back shortly." Her mind was awhirl. She'd never thought of being with anyone other than Kael. It had always been assumed that they would wed and no Kin dared oppose that and approach her. And what did she feel for Davor? He was good looking, he was generous, he was one of the kindest souls she'd ever met. He made her laugh, made her feel cherished. She slipped naked into the pool the stream fed into and flipped onto her back, floating in its peace. She closed her eyes. She cared for him, of that there was no doubt. She even loved him. But….

Davor had watched her rise and walk towards the stream. Time seemed to drag on and he started to worry. He hurried in the direction she'd gone. He opened his senses and followed her trail along the stream's path. Then he saw her, the moonlight shining down on her body as she floated in a pool of water. He removed his undergear and slipped silently into the pool. With her legs spread the temptation was greater than he could resist.

His hands slid up her thighs and gripped her hips, his tongue slipped between her wet folds to find the hidden nub. Her body went still for a moment and then her soft cries of pleasure filled his heart with warmth. He made love to her with his lips and tongue until he felt her body stiffen briefly before she flew over the abyss with a hoarse cry. He brought her down slowly and then scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to camp. He lowered them to the blanket and settled between her legs. "Trust me; you are safe with me, Angel."

Her heart was still hammering and her head was still buzzing from the pleasure she'd just received. She didn't know it could be like that. Her body was alive, but so was guilt. She melted under the weight of his experience and her thoughts fled.

His mouth claimed hers in a hungry need as he rocked against her. When she writhed beneath him he broke the kiss to trail hot kisses with gentle scrapes of his teeth down to her breasts. He gently rolled the tight bud between his teeth before he drew it into the heat of his mouth. He felt her fingers sink into his hair as her body arched against him.

He released her breast and his mouth skimmed lower, down her ribs and over the flat of her belly. He heard her soft keen as he drew close to the part of her that ached for his touch. She knew what he could do to her and she wanted it. He nipped her thigh and drew his tongue along the inside crease of her leg. Her cry of frustration made him chuckle. He spread open the soft petals, the heart of her exposed in the flickering light of the campfire. "You are so beautiful."

He rolled the swollen bud between his thumb and forefinger as his tongue slipped in to taste her nectar. He groaned when he felt her swelling between his fingers. He slid his tongue up to the nub and sealed his mouth around it. He suckled it gently, she cried out and her hips bucked. His hands slid up to grasp her hips holding her tightly against his mouth. Her own hands held him prisoner against her. He heard her cry out his name as her body stiffened. He suckled her when she was on the edge and she shattered against him. He eased her back down and then his tongue trailed back down to lap up the sweet nectar of her climax.

When he finished he raised himself to his knees and reached for his saddle bags. He pulled out a small vial. "Give me your palm; I'm going to pour some oil on it. I'd like for you to coat me with the oil."

She'd never touched a man before. What if she did something wrong? "I've never…"

"Any touch you give me will feel good, Angel," he assured her.

"Really?"

"Really," he said thickly. He needed her touch more than he needed to breath at this moment.

She slid her finger down the length of him. She smiled when she heard his soft groan. "Hard and silky at the same time," she murmured. She held out her palm. The oil shimmered in the light of the fire. She closed her palm, coating it with oil and then slid it down his length. She stroked him until he backed away. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all, if felt too good and it was not my intension to come just yet. I wanted to try something I'd heard about but never done. I hear it can bring pleasure so long as your partner relaxes. So imagine you are floating on a pool of water and you have to stay relaxed to stay afloat." He lifted her legs to rest against his chest and dipped a finger into her heat to coat it. His shaft jerked and he panted with the need to slide into her. He slowly slid his finger into her ass. She was relaxed as he'd instructed and there was no resistance. "Are you ready to try?" he asked, his voice deep and heavy with need.

"Yes," she said softly. True to his word he was finding a way to make love to her and not take her virginity.

He spread her soft cheeks and slid slowly into her. The first sign of pain and he would stop. He cried out his body trembling as he hilted himself in her heat. He leaned forward, tilting her hips further. When he saw no pain on her face he began slow and steady strokes. When she bit her lip and moaned he became concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yes…don't stop," she said softly.

Relief flooded through him. She didn't need to tell him twice. His thrusts grew hard and fast, his own cries of pleasure drowning out hers. He brought his thumb to her nub and massaged it in time with his thrusts. He gasped when her body stiffened and tightened around him. He fell over the precipice right behind her with shout as his seed burst forth. When the last of his seed was expelled, her legs fell to the side as he lowered himself to claim her lips. He pulled back to look down into her eyes. "I love you, Angel. Making love to you was more beautiful than anything I could have imagined." His mouth claimed hers once more. He felt her legs wrap around his waist as he thrust back into her.

-BREAK FIVE-

When they awoke the birds were singing and the sun was breaking the day. While she went to wash up he broke camp. As much as he wanted to follow her and make love to her in the pool, they had to move out. She needed swords that would not tire her out so quickly and her safety meant more to him than making love to her.

He smiled softly as he watched her armor materialize over her body. He grazed his lips over hers and handed her up her portion of their leftovers to eat on the trail. He mounted Spook and they moved out. A couple of hours into the ride they passed a husk of a town that had been positioned up against a river. He caught sight of the drowners and pulled Spook to a stop. "Angel, look," he said pointing to the river bank. "They are called drowners because people believe they are the rancid souls of those that drowned, that is not the case, but it is how they got their name. And they are probably why the small town fell to ruin. They tend to hunt in packs. They are fast and can dodge a sword if you are not faster. They are immune to poison, but susceptible to silver. So use your silver blade. They are also sensitive to the ingi sign. They are a good...monster to practice on."

He dismounted and pulled his silver blade. They also said that a witcher in love was at more risk. Presumably because his head was in the clouds, but right now his mind was completely focused. Probably because the woman he loved was with him and that kept him alert.

The drowners rushed them when they caught sight of them. He focused on distracting them. But he would not kill any unless there was a need. This was good practice for her. Her form was good, but the sword was telling. A few were able to dodge her until she allowed them to draw closer and used feints. Impressive improvising.

When she killed off the ones the ones surrounding her, her jaw dropped when she noticed he'd not killed any that had gone after him. "You've got to be kidding me."

He chuckled. "I told you they were good for practice and I don't need the practice. Please come dispatch these miscreants for an old, weary witcher."

She scoffed. "If you are too weary, perhaps you need a good night of rest." She laughed when the head of a drowner went sailing before her words were even finished."

He finished the last one in record time and joined her. "I find myself oddly rejuvenated."

"I bet you do," she smirked. She raised her fingers to her lips and blew. She smiled as Titan trotted into view, Spook right behind him.

"So they both come when you whistle?" he asked curiously.

"No, Spook will only respond to your whistle. But he knew we were together so came with Titan."

"That's my smart boy," he said and patted his neck before mounting. "We'll make it to the next town in maybe three hours, less if the horses wish to stretch their legs. At least by the time we arrive the blacksmith will still be open. I'll pay him extra to get them done sooner. We need to get to the keep."

"No more contracts?"

He grinned. "Right now our pockets are brimming with coin. No more contracts."

She frowned. So many needed help. "What of all the people who need our help?"

He sighed. "Angel, you have a big heart and I love that about you, but there is one thing you need to understand. People will always need help. If you try to help everyone all the time you will run yourself ragged. We will do what we can if we pass someone needing help, but for now, getting to the keep is most important. You need to complete your training and then we can hunt contracts. Is that acceptable?"

She nodded and gave Titan his head. The stallion shot into a gallop, her hair whipping in the wind. She felt secure in her seat. Maybe it was because she was getting better, more confident, or maybe it was because she wasn't having to dodge trees and branches. He eventually settled into an easy canter. "Do you think the wolves will really take us in?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "I don't think they will have a problem taking you in. You will go through training like any of their men and earn your medallion when you complete it. As far as I go? Probably, though I'm sure I will have to prove my loyalty to the keep in some way."

When he saw the town up ahead he glanced at the direction of the sun. "We've made much better time than I thought we would. Hopefully, Emereth will be at his shop."

The town was active this time of day, dogs and children alike darted in front of them. She laid a calming hand on Titan's neck. "Easy, love, we have to be here. I need you on your best behavior." When he shook his head she laughed. "I agree it stinks here. We'll leave as soon as we can."

He spotted the sign and grinned. "Stay with the horses, I'll be right back." He sent her a wink before he stepped into the smithy.

She stilled and her head jerked up. "Stay," she told Spook. She spun Titan around and followed the sounds of a horse's shrieks. It led her outside of the town's gates and to the right. As she got closer she heard the whistle of something and then a sound of it hitting flesh, followed by another shriek. She will never forget the horror of what she saw. A white mare covered in foam and blood was tied to a fence by her bridle, her left front and rear legs hobbled together, unable to move, unable to defend herself, being beaten by humans with long straps that appeared to have barbs or blades sewn into them.

She vaulted from Titan's back. "Leave now," she said, ice dripping from every word.

'Beauty come to save the beast, have ye?" he hawked and spat on the ground.

"Save her or avenge her, the choice is yours."

"What the hell'd she say?" he asked looking to his cronies.

"Does it matter, mate? She's a right prime piece, she is. What say we plough her like we ploughed the mare, eh Bimmy?"

"She leave with me," growled.

"Not gonna happen, pretty piece. See we paid good coin for her and she nearly kilt poor Bimmy here. We'll beat her 'till she's meek as a dog, we will," he said and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Insufferable, abusive pig's arse.." she grumbled as she untied her coin pouch and tossed it at the man that appeared to be the leader of the bunch. "She go with me."

The man rubbed his scraggly beard and grinned. "That's a mighty nice purse you just gave us, but it changes nothin'. And I just decided we'll plough you 'till yer bleedin' and screamin' for a mercy we don't got."

"I dunno, Mavis," Bimmy said with caution. "They says only witchers carry two swords like that."

"Lookit her titties, Bimmy. She's a gerl. You ever seen a gerl witcher? She prolly stold them," Mavis said with a nod.

"It's _stole_ , you moronic, flea bitten, soul rotted, son of a gutter swine…" She unbuckled her swords and laid them on the ground before facing the men.

"More of that sing-songy language….oh, looky there, boys. She aims to make it easy for us. Just need to show a gerl who's boss and she'll suck your stick dry, she will. Watch ol' Mavis show yous how it's done."

Mavis stepped forward to backhand the woman. Before he knew what happened he sailed over her back, landed flat on his with his arm twisted. A shrill scream tore from his throat when his arm snapped.

Two more came at her. She jabbed the solar plexus of the man on her left, when his body fell forward she swung over his back and brought her knee up into the underside of his chin, his head snapped backwards and he landed flat on his back. She eyed the two remaining men and grinned. "You should have just taken the money." She watched as the men looked at each other, eyed the two men on the ground and then took off in the opposite direction. She saluted them and turned her attention to the white mare.

The mare's mouth was open; she was blowing hard from the pain, her body trembling. "It will be alright now, baby. You're safe." She squatted down and untied the mare's hooves. Even they were bloody from fighting the rope. A single death was too good for those men and she'd not killed anyone. She took a small knife from sheath at her waist and sliced her wrist. She dripped her blood into the long, thick gash that ran down her neck and over her shoulder. It was not a wound she wanted to take on herself when there was an easier way.

There were three ways she could heal. A quick heal for simple injuries like a small gash or fracture, which involved little more than wishing it so. The second method was the blood heal, it was used for serious wounds. She'd never used that type of healing before, but she knew of it. The properties of her blood would cause the wound to heal and knit together as her own flesh did. The third method involved skin on skin contact, the damage would be transferred to her and then her body would heal itself, that method was simplest for internal injuries you could not see or a vast amount of injuries the other two could not compensate for.

She employed all three of these methods. After using her blood on the major wound, she used a flash heal and then stepped into the horse's side. The front of her armor melted away so that her breasts were flattened against the heaving ribs. She spread her arms wide, one palm touching her shoulder the other touching her flank and transferred the injuries to herself. "Shhh, baby, you'll feel better in a moment." They were all relatively minor, so the transfer was quick.

She fell to one knee with a gasp, her armor reforming. She just needed a moment to catch her breath.

Davor had arrived just in time to see her take out the men splendidly. When she appeared to be hugging the mare's side, perhaps comforting it, he gave her a moment. But when she dropped to her knee he moved quickly to her side and helped her up. "What happened?"

"I healed her….it just took a bit out of me. She was abused rather heavily," she admitted.

"I can tell by the amount of blood. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked with concern.

"Thank you, but no. Healing is a simple matter, but it can also be draining." She waved her hand and the mare's coat glistened, all signs of the beating gone, except for one long, thin scar that would continue to heal over the next few days. "There is one more thing I need to do for her." She moved to stand in front of the horse. The mare dropped her head and rested it against her armor.

"What more can you do that you haven't already?" He couldn't help but worry; he'd seen the toll the healing took on her.

She stroked the sides of the mare's head. "Those men molested her and I intend to destroy the memory of the abuse they gave her. Give me a moment please; it's not as easy finding, and animal's thoughts are different…I think…there…" A shudder passed over the mare's skin and she stepped back with a shake of her head. "You don't want me to remove the memory of the beating?"Another shake of the mare's head. "But why not?" The mare tossed her head and then stepped into the woman and dropped her head over her shoulder. Syntl sighed. "Does it mean that much to you to remember that?" The mare blew out her nostrils. "I understand." The mare backed up and lipped her cheek. She giggled and ran her hand down the mare's face and then rubbed gently between her eyes. She froze when a picture entered her mind. Geralt. But why? The mare nodded. "Do you know him?" A shake of the head. She didn't know him, but she was meant for him. If the mare didn't know him then the picture came from her own mind and she, in turn, had transferred the picture to the mare's mind. There was little sense questioning what the mare had already accepted.

"Can you please saddle her?" she asked as she pointed to the tack on the ground.

He lifted the pad and saddle together and settled it on the mare's back. "What was that all about?" he asked as he buckled on the chest guard and cinched up the saddle.

She rubbed the horse's neck. "She allowed me to remove one memory, but she wouldn't let me touch the memory of her beating. Because if I removed it then it would also remove the fact that I'd saved her, healed her. She didn't want to lose that memory. But maybe she's right, maybe it's better for her to be aware of the evil men are capable of. If she knows, she'd less likely to be caught off guard again." She flipped the looped rein over the top of the mare's head to rest on the saddle.

"She's a stunning mare, but what are we going to do with a third horse…or will we be picking up orphans along the way?" he teased.

She grinned as she mounted Titan. "Ha-ha. I am to take her to her new owner."

"Splendid! Where are they?" he asked beaming a smile as he turned his mount to head back to town.

She shook her head and followed him, the white mare bringing up the rear. "I don't know."

The smile slipped from his face. "Well then, that just made things a lot more complicated. Do you know who the owner is?"

She shook her head again. "I've never met him." She thought about dragging it out a bit longer, just to play with him, but in the end she couldn't keep the grin from her face.

He caught her grin and pursed his lips. "You are playing with me, are you not?"

"I am,' she admitted. "She's to go to Geralt."

"Ger – Geralt?" Laughter burst forth. "That is rich, the irony. The White Wolf atop the white steed. Can't wait to see his face when he finds that out."

Now she was concerned. "Would he refuse her?"

Davor shrugged. "I have no idea. I imagine it would depend on how attached he is to the mount he's got. We'll see when we get to the keep. As for your swords, they will be ready tomorrow. He was already starting on the steel sword when I left."

That did surprise her. "I don't know much about making swords. Okay, I know nothing about it, but that seems rather fast, especially if they have more requirements than normal swords."

"Do not worry about such things," he said. "He's one of the best; he knows what he's doing." He dismounted in front of the stable and paid for two. The stalls were a bit smaller, so he put the mare and gelding in one and she led Titan to the other. He warned the stable master to not let anyone get near the horses, for their own safety.

He purchased them a room at the inn and ordered a platter to be delivered. Once in their room he propped his swords against the wall and removed his armor with a sigh of relief. He sat down in a chair next to the table. "Can you clean me the way you cleaned the mare?"

She blinked. "Yes, but it's not a substitute for…for water." She grinned. "Which we don't have." She waved her hand in his direction. "All better."

There was a knock at the door. "You may wish to get under the blanket, Angel. Your night clothes are not…typical. He grinned when her armor reappeared. "That will suffice." He unlocked the door and opened it. A small elf maid was holding a large platter. He reached out to take it from her but she skirted around him and laid it on the table.

"Master witcher, I be off duty at moonrise, if'n yer wantin a wee bit of fun," she said as she fondled her breasts.

"Thank you for the offer, miss, but I'm not interested. As you can see, I'm not alone," he pointed out.

"More's the merrier, I say."

"No, thank you," he said firmly. "It is best you find other entertainment for the eve," he said as he ushered her to the door.

"More's the pity. You know when I get off if'n you've a change of mind." She reached for his groin and frowned when he moved away. She shrugged and headed back down the stairs.

Syntl was stunned. "I can't believe she tried to grab you like that!"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Harlots will do that too. If they can make a man…respond they are more likely to get him in bed."

"You were quick on the dodge," she teased.

While her words were odd, he understood her meaning well enough. "I did not wish for her touch. It is your touch I favor. I would not be…quick on the dodge with you."

She laughed softly and sat down at the table. "I will keep that in mind."

"Please do," he said as he joined her at the table. He cut off a hunk of meat, cut it into small bites and then scraped it onto her plate. He plopped the remainder onto his plate. He saw her frown as she looked at it. "You need to eat it, Angel."

She grumbled in disgust. "I know…just don't tell me what it is. If I knew, I would not be able to stomach it," she admitted honestly.

"You have a deal." It was going to be damned awkward on the trail, but he'd figure something.

When they finished their lunch he placed the platter outside the door. By the time he turned around she was already in bed. He bent down and kissed her cheek. "I'll be back soon. I need to purchase a few things while we're in town." He slapped his armor on, stepped over the platter and locked the door behind him.

First thing he did was hit the notice board. There was a simple retrieval notice not too far away. It would earn him 300 and that was all he really needed to have them where they should be. He'd spent a little more on her swords than he'd expected to pay. The job itself had been relatively simple. A vengeful wraith protected the house. Bodies of those that had sought to trespass were seen littered around the house. He apologized to the wraith before he cut him down. It sickened him because the poster was probably the one that killed the man the wraith once was. He scanned the house with his senses and was able to piece together the betrayal. A will he found locked in a trunk bequeathed the full inheritance to go to the younger son. Someone, presumably the younger son, was murdered in bed while he slept. The body was dragged out and buried beneath the boards of the privy. The murder weapon lay in muck next to the body.

He pocketed the will and grabbed the jeweled box he'd come for. The job had ended up being worth more than he was getting paid, but justice would taste just as sweet. He found Bradley Johsnan, handed over the box and took his coin. He then went straight to the local law. He handed over the will, explained what he saw and where the body and murder weapon could be found. He'd done what he could the rest lie in the hands of the law. He hoped justice would not be blind.

He visited a butcher and purchased a fair amount of dried meat. One way or another he would make sure she ate. He then purchased scabbards and a new harness that would fit her smaller, lighter swords. Once they reached Kaer Morhen then he would have done all he could to help try to make up for the path he'd inadvertently set her upon. If he could turn back time he would have. He could never truly pay off his debt to her; some mistakes could not be undone. He knew she did not hold him responsible, but he did.

He made a final stop at the smithy. Her steel sword was ready. He tested its weight and balance and drew his fingertips down the blade. It was beautifully crafted. As requested her name was also inscribed on the blade. However the language it was inscribed in was not known to him. When he asked Emereth about it, the elf said only that it was in ancient elven and the steel called to him. No matter, it did not change the worth of the blade. He slid the blade into its new scabbard and flung it over his shoulder.

He blinked in surprise when he stepped into their room. Nothing was as he remembered it. Except for the fireplace. The bed, the table, the chairs…all were unlike anything he'd seen before. There was even a long, soft looking thing situated in front of the fireplace. "I think I've got the wrong room," he teased as he set his purchases down and removed his armor and the top of his undergear.

She watched him a moment. No doubt the change of décor was startling. She'd based the furnishings on a few pieces she had in her room back home. She had been horrified to wake up and not be alone. "I didn't like the uninvited guests." She shuddered. "There were…bugs….everywhere," she whispered. "But they tasted the wrath of a witcher and are no more! I have vanquished our foes singlehandedly! Bow before my might!"

Davor gave an extravagant bow. "My lady, the savior of abused flesh everywhere. I am humbly in your service. I pledge my sword to thee, in _any_ way you have wish of me to use it."

She inclined her head. "Then arise gallant knight and present thy sword to me."

He rose. "Which sword does my lady wish me to present?"

She cocked her head. "Why the most useful one, sir witcher knight."

"My lady, I humbly ask that thee forgive my naivety. For all of my swords are useful. For what setting does her highness wish displayed?"

"Why the setting is nigh, sir knight!"

She watched a grin spread slowly on his face, his golden eyes began to glow with an inner heat as his fingers deftly untied the flap on his undergear. The flap fell to reveal his thickened arousal that stood proud and ready for action. She blushed. "Oh, my…" That was considered a sword? It seemed there was much she still needed to learn.

He stepped around the padded long bench and pulled her up against him. He reached down and placed her hand against him. "Feel the strength of my sword, my lady. It is ready to be of service to you," he murmured huskily in her ear. He drew his tongue along her ear and gently nipped the lobe before cupping her face with both hands and capturing her lips with a heated kiss.

This wasn't at all what she'd intended. She had not thought beyond the single night they had together. She had no intension of becoming anyone's mistress; it was not a life she wanted. But his experienced tongue and the way his length responded to her touch caused her thoughts to disband in the heat of the moment.

By the time they'd reached their third release their bodies were slick with sweat. He held her close as their heartbeats slowed and their bodies cooled. There was a fear inside of him that their time together was coming to an end. He didn't know why he felt that, perhaps because he wanted her more than anything and he feared she would never be his, if only because she was not of this world. Regardless, he was driven to steal as many precious memories of her as he could. He knew things would change at Kaer Morhen. He couldn't exactly visit her chambers in sight of the other men. He would not tarnish her reputation in such a manner. Nor would he ever enter a lady's chambers without an invitation.

"Angel," he said quietly. "I need you to know something. It does not require an answer, I just…you should know the option is available should you ever…" he sighed. "You know I love you, I won't hide that truth. I want you to know that no matter what happens, there will always be a place for you at my side…as my wife." He brought his fingers to her lips. "Shh…I know it's not the right time for you, too much is uncertain…and you have a home you wish to return to, so I do not want you to answer until you can say, 'Davor, I want to be your wife.' I just need you to know that nothing will ever change how I feel about you. You are the only woman I want in my life and I will always be there for you, no matter what happens…no matter how long it takes; the offer will always be on the table. And do not say, 'Davor, I would never ask you to wait for me,' or , 'Davor, I want you to be happy, to find someone that could love you the way you deserve.' I don't want to hear that. Only I know what I deserve and what I'm content to live with." He removed his fingers from her mouth and grazed his lips over hers.

His beautiful words were alarming. She gazed into his glowing eyes and ran her fingertips through his long, thick, dark hair. His sculpted, chiseled features were near perfect. There was no denying his physical appeal to her and she also knew she could be happy with him, but this was not her world. She lowered her forehead to his. She didn't belong here and he would never be welcomed in her world. "You know me so well," she said softly.

"I know and yet you always manage to surprise me," he admitted.

"I'm not human," she said, the words barely more than a whisper.

"Nor am I," he reminded her.

She sighed. "You were once…I never was." She rolled out of bed, drew her hair over her shoulder to expose her back and walked towards the fireplace. She held her hands out to the flames and waited for his response.

Davor's mouth fell open. Never had he seen anything so beautiful in all his life. A tattoo of golden wings flecked with creamy white fell from her shoulders to the backs of her heals. He released a slow breath as he scooted out of bed to stand behind her. His fingers slid down her back; though he expected to feel the soft down of feathers he felt only the warmth of her skin. "They are so real looking, so breathtaking. Did you think a tattoo would change my mind?" he asked through a throat tight with emotion.

"No," she said quietly. She slowly spread her wings, the tattoo moving off her skin to become feathers.

Davor groaned as he saw the tattoo leave her body and spread into soft, supple wings. They were each at least as long as her body was tall and nearly spanned the small room. He ran his hands gently over the feathers and lowered his head to breath in their scent, to feel their softness against his cheek. The wings attached right above her lower shoulder blades to the bottom of her ribs, the muscles bunching a bit around the base of the wings. He drew his tongue along the base of the wings and felt her body shiver in response. He nipped the side of her neck and put his arms around her waist. "This changes nothing, least of all my love for you." He took a step back as she pulled in her wings. He watched as the tattoo slid onto her body.

She felt the warm press of his lips against her back. He accepted her completely. And she knew her secrets were safe with him. She trusted him completely. She turned around in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you for accepting me as I am." She put her lips against his neck and elongated her fangs. She felt him stiffen as they pierced his skin. His arms tightened around her and he groaned as his blood flowed swiftly up her teeth and into her bloodstream. She bit the tip of her tongue to allow the drops of her blood to seal the wounds. "I have created a bond between us. If you are ever in pain or need I will know and I will come for you."

Outside of the initial pinch her bite had been pleasurable, though unexpected. "I will always be in need of you."

"That's not what I meant," she said with a grin.

"I know. Does it work both ways?" he asked hoarsely.

"No, for that you'd need my blood and…" She stiffened when she felt the shock of his bite.

He didn't need to hear any more. If they were separated he wanted to know if she were in danger. He wasn't sure how he'd get to her, but he needed to know. He bit down at the base of her neck, the heat and taste of her blood surprised him. Her blood did not taste like blood at all; it had a sweetness to it that drove him to take in more. He drew hard on the wounds, grinding his teeth when the flow became too weak. He grew thick against her belly and ground himself against her with a whimper.

He felt the pressure of her hand against his head, holding him against her. Her other hand slid down the muscled of his abdomen to grasp his aching arousal. She worked him until he knew he was about to come. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He adjusted her position, spread her soft cheeks and drove into heat of her ass, her hand still holding him firmly to her neck. He ground his teeth again, fresh blood and energy poured into him. Blood sprayed when he growled out his release a moment before she tumbled over the precipice to join him. He released his hold on her neck to claim her lips. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

He withdrew from her and her feet lowered to the floor. "I know I will never be able to get to you in time if you are in need, but at least I will know when to worry."

Her fingertips caressed his cheek. "You never need to worry about me."

He let out a long breath. "I know how powerful you are, but that won't stop my worry and that didn't stop Ivanth."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I don't expect to fall out of another gateway anytime soon."

"And don't fly off into one any time soon either, I'd miss you dreadfully," he teased. That it was the biggest understatement he'd ever spoke. Even if she never wed him, he couldn't imagine his world without her in it. The world would dim with her loss. "Oh – I all but forgot the other sword I wanted to show you." He glanced down when he felt something touch him. He was now wearing what amounted to very short pants that hugged his hips and upper thighs. It was made from the same material that made up her nightclothes. "Very comfortable," he admitted.

"Or perhaps you prefer this for underwear?" she teased making the underwear so small that it barely covered his groin.

"No, no…I much prefer the other." This scrap of cloth would cover nothing if he grew hard. When his underwear reverted to normal size he took them off. "Can you make me a whole undersuit of that material?"

She thought he needed the thicker undersuit, but she should have thought to ask him about it. "Absolutely, I wish I would have thought of that sooner. The material wicks sweat away to help keep you dry. Do you want it to go to your wrists and ankles?" At his nod, she materialized the undersuit.

He ran his hands over the material. "I cannot wait to wear this under my armor. It would be nice not to drown in my own sweat for a change."

She grinned. "Don't expect miracles, it doesn't exactly air condition."

His brows drew together in confusion. "Air condition?"

She bit her lip. "Well, make the air cooler. Where I live you can set the temperature to whatever you wish. I tend to prefer it on the cooler side than the warmer side. You can always put on warmer clothes or a blanket if you grow too cold, but no matter how much you take off, hot is hot and I'm not a fan of sitting in a pool of sweat."

"Ahh..that sounds wonderful. Here we have to wait for winter, the only downside to winter is waiting for the water to be heated to take a bath and often the first bucket has grown too cool before the last bucket fills the tub. And you have to heat the water for the horses to drink…and shovel the snow...and if you sweat….ok, so midwinter is not much fun, but pre-winter and post-winter temperatures are perfect."

"I see what you mean. If I am still here come winter, it looks like bathing will become…unpleasant. Though, I refuse to do without. I suppose I can always crawl inside a large stew pot atop a fire," she teased.

He grinned. "As much as I love the taste of you, that is not what I had in mind."

"Oh, hush," she said slapping his chest, completely embarrassed. "Show me that _other_ sword you were talking about."

He pulled the steel sword from its scabbard, turned to face her and laid the flat side of the blade against his palm.

The quality of the sword was obvious. She drew her finger down the engravings. "Syntl.." she murmured. "It looks a lot like my language. I did not expect to see it here."

Her language? That made little sense. "Emereth said he used ancient elven for the script."

The only way this could happen was if a Kin sent to observe long ago became more involved that he should have. But why would he or she do such a thing? "There are slight variations, but it is Kin. And I don't like what that implies. We are to observe, not teach or guide." She took the sword in hand. It was lighter, trimmer and a bit shorter than the swords she had been using. She stepped back and took a few practice swings. "I don't know much about swords, but it moves a lot easier."

He chuckled. "It is you that are moving a lot easier. But you are right, it has superb balance, the craftsmanship is unparalleled. It will serve you well." He took the sword back from her and slid it back into its scabbard. He looked up when there was a knock at the door and in a blink his armor was back in place. He winked at her and opened the door. The eleven maid was there with their evening platter. He stepped in front of her when she attempted to skirt around him. "I will take that, miss." He took the platter from her hands, tossed a coin to her and closed the door in her face. He heard her stomp down the stairs but didn't much care.

His undersuit was back in place before he was able to set the platter on the table. "I knew I kept you around for a reason," he teased.

She pursed her lips. "Any more comments like that and you will find yourself in the horse trough naked."

His mouth fell open in shock. "You wouldn't.." He held his hands up quickly in surrender. He had no intension of calling her bluff.

She grinned and sat down at the table next to him. "Good call."

Without thinking, he spun the platter around, pulled the chicken from the bone and scraped it onto her plate before he saw to his own meal. "What is that thing?" he asked as he pointed to the padded bench.

She popped another cube of cheese into her mouth. "A couch. It's good for sitting or sleeping. I used to sit on one of the sofas in my room to read."

With a full belly he sat back in his chair. "Sounds nice. Would have loved to have had such growing up in the keep. We spent hours going over tomes on wooden benches. I don't even want to tell you how many splinters I pulled out of my…backside."

She rose and set the tray outside the door and then locked it. "Well, if they intend for me to spend hours reading at the school, then there will be sofas. I'd rather save my backside the torment." She settled on the middle of the sofa, when he joined her she scooted down and laid her head on his thigh. She watched the flames dance and spark until her eyes grew heavy.

With one arm resting on the sofa's arm, he gently ran his fingers through her hair. He could definitely see the appeal to these couches. When her breathing became slow and even he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He settled in next to her with a sigh and pulled her up against him. He'd never laid on anything this comfortable. It felt like a cloud. He couldn't help but wonder what it was like in her world.

-BREAK SIX-

When they finished breakfast he told her he was going to check out the mare's shoes and take her for a quick ride.

"Shoes…" she said slowly. "I don't recall seeing any horse wearing shoes. I can't even picture it," she said with a shake of her head.

He laughed, he couldn't help it. "A horse's shoes are not like our shoes. They are small hoof shaped irons that rim the underside of their hooves. They are nailed into place on the bottom of the hoof. They protect a horse's hoof from cracking and splitting when on hard surfaces. Many of the nicer or larger cities have cobblestone streets, which are dangerous to a horse's hooves."

"Titan…" she said quietly.

He couldn't imagine the stallion putting up with that. "He will need shoed eventually if you ever intend to take him out of the countryside. As a witcher you will be travelling to a lot of different places, if you intend to keep him as your main or only mount, then he will need shoed."

"Then I will see to that while you take out the mare."

"Then I shall accompany you to make sure the blacksmith knows just what you need."

They led the mare and the stallion from the stable. They dismounted in front of the blacksmith's and went in. "Good morn, Emereth, do you have any assistants around that are able to shoe a stallion?"

Emereth rubbed his chin in thought. "That depends on the mood of the stallion. The large gold one, I presume?"

"Yes, he is called Titan and he is my…partner's mount," Davor replied evenly.

Emereth grinned. "A mighty fine steed, and he's a lady's mount? Then he has manners?"

"Not likely," Davor laughed. "At least not unless the lady is present. He was wild caught, he was never tame and never broke to saddle, but he is a kitten with her."

Emereth studied the female witcher. She was different than the other witchers he'd met and that had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman. The power that surrounded her was nearly tangible. "There is something different about you….who are you?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "I am Angel."

The elf shook his head. "What is your true name?"

"Syntl," she said cautiously.

Emereth's eyes opened wide. "Justice…the name inscribed on the swords…"

Syntle blinked. "How do you know what my name means?"

The accent was off, the language a bit more lilting..but that was ancient elven. "How do you know the speech of the ancients?" he asked speaking in kind.

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not…it is they that speak mine."

A shudder passed through Emereth's body and he dropped to the ground prostrating himself in front of her. "It was prophesied that you would return. 'When the winds of change turn cold, the heavens will tremble, justice takes flight and the king shall hunt no more'."

She looked at Davor and shook her head before returning her attention to the elf at her feet. "Please rise. I'm sorry, I've never heard of this prophecy and I do not even know what it means."

Emereth rose to his feet. "Lack of knowledge does not null the prophecy. I cannot tell you what it means; only that it is. You must seek out the answer or wait for it to seek you."

This was all surreal. "I'm sorry, Emereth, I'm not who you think I am. I am here by accident. I am not of this world, so its destiny cannot pertain to me. I'm just Angel here. That is all."

Emereth felt bad for his queen. He could not imagine being thrust into a role he knew nothing about. "My liege, Queen of the Ancients, I am but a humble servant. Your arrival was no accident. You are here because you are needed. I'm sorry, my liege, but you cannot stop what will be. Destiny will not allow you to forsake her, even if you try." He reached behind his counter and pulled out the finished silver sword. He removed the pommel and replaced it with another befitting his queen. He bowed and held it out to her.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of the sword. The runes on the blade and guard of the sword glowed blue with a life of their own; stronger and more vivid than they had on the other sword. Her name 'Syntl' glowed with the same living fire. The pommel was an intricately carved silver crown with five wickedly sharp small spikes. "Ohhh, Emereth, it's breathtaking. I-" She slid the silver sword into the empty scabbard and hugged the elf. "Thank you, Emereth. There is no equal."

Emereth flushed, but hugged her back before stepping away. "I will shoe your Titan. No charge. But I beg that you remain here while I do. I'd prefer to come out of it in one piece, my liege."

She laughed. "Of course, my friend. And please, call me Angel." She turned to Davor. "I'll see you soon."

Right, the ride. He'd been overwhelmed with all that he'd heard and seen. He'd completely forgotten about the mare. He squeezed her shoulder and left the shop. He rubbed the white mare between her soft grey eyes. "We're going to see how you feel about being a witcher's horse." He grinned when she tossed her head and swung into the saddle.

He grabbed a notice from the board and headed out. This one pertained to a merchant wagon that had been attacked. The notice had claimed it was a dragon, but then most peasants didn't know a pommel from a guard.

It didn't take him long to find the wagon, fully intact, but the horse lay on the ground with its belly torn open. And much as he'd assumed there was no dragon, just a wyvern head deep in the horse's gut. He withdrew his silver blade and charged. It wasn't something he'd normally do, but he was testing the mare's resolve and ability to take commands under duress.

The wyvern jerked its head from the cavity, bloody intestines draped from its snout. It shook its head, but the stubborn bits remained. With a claw from its wing it scraped off the visceral and hissed at the trespassers, swinging its tail in warning.

Davor pulled the horse to a stop near the wagon and eyed the wyvern critically. He could smell the sour stench of infection. The wyvern was emaciated; an open, jagged gash on its leg was festering; probably from an attack by a larger wyvern, perhaps fighting over food or mate. Regardless, the wyvern was in bad shape. That was why it attacked the slow moving horse. Thanks to Angel's influence he now felt bad about putting it down, but he knew he had to. Even if the injury would heal on its own, it would take too long and that made the wyvern very dangerous for anyone traveling this part of the road.

He patted the mare's neck as he dismounted. He edged closer to the beast. It took a halting step and swung its spike laden tail. Davor dodged and swung his silver sword; the spiked bulb fell to the ground and rolled. The wyvern let off an ear-splitting scream and he clenched his jaw. He would have preferred the kill to be clean; he had no desire to torture the beast any more than it was. He charged the beast, feinted to the left and when the beast turned in that direction he launched his body in the air, twisted into the arch and brought his blade down hard as he landed, severing head from neck. With a sigh he tied the head to the saddle and returned to town. The merchant could go collect his own junk if he wanted it; the contract was for the _dragon_ not the merchandise. At least it was a quick 800.

After he collected on the contract he headed for the stable. He was surprised to see Angel waiting for him. When he dismounted she flew into his arms and hugged him tight. Who was he to complain? Though, he was uncomfortable with anyone seeing them, he didn't want damage her reputation anymore than it was for her travelling unchaperoned with a man. Hopefully her being a witcher waylaid some of those tongues.

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't know how I'll ever repay you for the swords!"

"Repay me?" he asked in surprise. "I'm the one that got you into this! The swords are the very least I can do, that and see that you get to a good school, with a just master… and be there at your beck and call.."

"Oh now you're just being silly!" she admonished.

"Perhaps… perhaps not. I notice you have all our things. Are you ready to head out?"

She nodded. "The innkeep wanted us to pay for another day, so I thought it best to clear out."

"I am in agreement. I'll stop at the inn and purchase some lunch for the road," he said as he turned to head towards the inn.

"No need," she said with a pleased grin. "I already did. Please note the extra skins hanging from our saddles. I do know the word _lunch_ , you know. And I even found a few silvers in the couch to cover it."

"It appears I stand corrected," he said as he swung into Spook's saddle. "And a fine coincidence, that."

"Oh, couches always have money between the cushions; I think it's a law," she said with a light laugh. When Titan kneeled she mounted up.

"Good to know should we fall in need of coin. A treasure hunt without risk of life and limb…that would be a novel experience," he said as he urged Spook into a trot.

"A treasure hunt…I had not thought of it that way, but that is what it felt like when I was buried up to my elbows in the couch cushions. And you should know, my sweet boy did wonderful for Emereth," she said giving his neck a pat. "He's got nice shiny shoes now. It took a bit of sweet-talk on my part, but he'd rather wear the monstrosities than be left behind."

"Probably because he does not wish to see you atop another steed," he said with a chuckle. He understood the stallion completely. There is little he wouldn't do to keep her as his and his alone, except interfere with her free will.

They rode until the sun sank and the first drops of rain alerted them to the downpour that would soon ensue. With the wave of her hand she created a cabin with an attached stable and they rode the horses straight into the stable. There was no flooring to the stable other than lush grass. There was a small chute that extend from the exterior connected to a wooden trough on the interior. If it rained enough the horses would have water.

They dismounted, grabbed the food from their saddles and dropped the slat of wood into its cradle to lock the doors from the outside. Safe from predators and dry, that was all she could really offer them. She could create anything natural, if she knew what it was made of, except food. She could create food, it would look and taste like the real thing, but it lacked most the nutritional aspects, and if imbibed on for too long one would slowly starve, even while feeling full. So she didn't like doing it.

The rain began to fall in earnest so they dashed to the cabin's front door. He dropped the wooden slat into place to lock the door behind them. The room was laid out much as the room in the last inn had been, but there were no candles. Instead there appeared to be a glowing moss on three of the walls well away from the bed. The bed was shadowed in darkness but the rest of the cabin was sufficiently lit. "I think I prefer your method of lighting to candles. No messy drips and no risk of burning down the cabin. Is that how you light your rooms at home?" he asked as he placed some of the wood stacked next to the hearth into the iron grate and lit it. He found the lever, had to pull a bit harder than was expected, but was able to open the flue.

"No," she said with a laugh. "I mean, we can…some do just for the ambience, but everything in our home is run from dark energy." She blushed. "I'm sorry; I wasn't sure how the flue was attached, so I improvised."

"I am not complaining. I'm just grateful not to be sleeping in the rain," he said as he removed his armor and sat down at the table with his food pouch in hand. As they ate he became concerned. Something was off about her tonight; she was more quiet than usual. But it was more than that. There was a look in her eyes that he couldn't decipher and she ate woodenly, just going through the motions.

When it was obvious she had eaten as much as she was going to, he put the leftovers away, took her hand and led her to the couch and pulled her down next to him. "Would you mind telling me what is on your mind?" he asked quietly.

"What?" she asked distractedly. She blinked. "I'm sorry. I've been feeling something since this evening and I'm not sure what it is." She shook her head. "It's like I feel a pull to go in the direction we are traveling, but a bit more to the east."

"Sounds like Kaer Morhen," he said cautiously. "To get their directly, that is the way we'd go, but I'd rather not go straight up a mountainside, so I'm taking us through a pass. Is this – er… _pull_ bothering you?"

She wrung her hands in her lap slowly. "Imagine needing to go through a door. It is the only way, yet you fear what might be lurking behind that door. It's not a rational fear; it is a soul deep fear." Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm sorry; I don't know how to explain it. That's not quite right. In front of you is a bright red button. The buttons says "Do Not Push," but with a sick fascination you know you are going to push it anyway, even though you also know you will regret that you ever did." She growled. "That's not quite right either, maybe it is a combination of the two, I don't know. I just know that I have to go, but when I do something…something is waiting for me…that something will change everything. I don't know if that is good or bad, only that it is. And that not knowing…" her words trailed off.

He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against him. "We don't have to go to Kaer Morhen. I'll teach you all I know, we'll get by. We work well together." A part of him preferred this. He wouldn't have to give her up to the keep. The days and nights would belong to them.

She reached up to stroke his smooth cheek. "You have a beautiful heart, don't ever lose that. But as I said, with sick fascination I have to push the red button. I cannot alter my course. The feeling is too strong. I'm not one to believe in destinies. I don't believe I'm here for the reasons Emereth said. But I do know I have to see this through."

He nodded. It was the same thing he'd felt when he helped her escape Griffin Keep. Not for a single moment did he regret pushing that red button and regardless where fate led them, he never would. He only hoped that Angel too would face no regrets. He scooped her up into his arms and laid her in the bed. He curled around her and drew up the covers. The heavy patter of the rain lulled them to sleep.

-BREAK SEVEN-

They awoke to the sounds of birds chirping as dawn broke the sky. After taking care of his morning needs he released the horses to take care of their own and then worked on her training. With her new swords she was faster and more agile than before. She swung them effortlessly. He didn't use his strength against her, that wasn't the point. Making sure she knew to block efficiently. It didn't take long for him to recognize that she was able to block or dodge his every attempt. He then showed her how to parry successfully for a counter attack. He knew she was capable enough against beasts, but sword fight against a sentient being with skill was another matter all together. Obviously, she could use her own power or the signs and never have to lift her swords, but as a witcher swords were a way of life and it was her life now, for as long as she was here, and he wanted her well versed in it.

They practiced until she understood the basics of counterattacking and striking. Her body was agile, beyond a doubt and that lent her a speed not often seen. She blended what he showed her into the fighting style she already knew, merely adapting it to sword use, and he found himself on the defensive a couple of times. She was fast and she just seemed to flow around him, everywhere at once. Once she learned the more advanced moves she would be someone to reckon with. Finally, he lowered his sword, tip down to the ground, signifying a halt. He sheathed his sword. "You were splendid," he said, kissing her damp forehead.

He then showed her the plants in the area that could be used for potions, oils or even bombs. He collected what he would use and stored them in his saddle bags. "There is one more thing I want to show you before we leave." He took her hand and kneeled on the ground. "There will be times when you will need to regain your focus or energy." He grinned. "Well, _you_ may not, but a normal witcher would, so I want you familiar with the concept of meditation. Obviously, only do so in a safe place," he said with a quirk of his lips. Find a comfortable position that you can hold for a decent period of time. Close your eyes and empty all thought from your head. Trust me; this is harder to do than you'd think. If you are successful you will enter a trance. In this trance phase your body will recover its energy, when it is revitalized you will awaken from the trance. The trance can be broken prematurely by danger, so you are not defenseless. Practice emptying your mind and give me a moment."

He closed his eyes and felt the slight pull of vertigo when he fell into a meditative trance. A few minutes later his eyes blinked open. He did not think he'd be able to meditate, but his sparring with her must have used up more energy than he knew. He rose slowly so as not to disturb her, but he saw her eyes open.

"You are right; it is more difficult than I thought it would be. How do you turn off the whispers of the dead?" she asked curiously.

"The what?" he asked in surprise as he looked around the area trying to find any sign of a vengeful spirit, but his senses picked up nothing. "My senses do not pick up any signs of spirits."

She bit her lip trying to think of how to explain what she'd felt. "It wasn't quite like that. Perhaps it was echos from the past…or spirits that are just too weak come further into the land of the living. I don't know. But I heard childrens' laughter, sobbing, a woman singing of her lost love. I heard the trees whispering to each other…the sound of clashing steel…and that is when I woke up."

His mouth fell open. He'd never heard of such a thing. Well, some mages could commune with the dead, but that often involved dark magic and she had no magic. But the trees talking? "It sounds like you were in a trance…but I've never heard of anything like that happening. Perhaps master Vesemir will have more insight into that. For now, perhaps you should forgo the meditation, I wouldn't wish for the trees to whisper thoughts of murdering me in our bed whilst I sleep," he teased.

She threw a small rock at him. "That's horrible, Davor!"

He dodged the missile with a laugh and headed into the cabin. Gone was the furniture of her time, instead it was like anything you'd see in any inn, the couch a mere wooden bench with no back. With the fire out he closed the flue to prevent vermin from getting in, though he wasn't sure why he bothered, it would all be gone in a blink. He grabbed their food satchels and stepped from the cabin. The horses were waiting and she was already mounted. He tied a pouch to her saddle, did the same for himself and then mounted his gelding. As they headed out he notice the cabin remained. "You are leaving it up?" he asked curiously.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Someone in need may stumble upon it. May it protect them as it did us." She shivered as a strong breeze whipped her through her hair. "It's getting colder."

"Winter will be here soon and it will get colder the closer we get to Kaer Morhen. The keep is in the mountains and winter reaches the mountains before it does the lower lands. The leaves you see on the ground shows the trees are preparing for winter. But we'll get there before it gets too cold. It's quite possible we'll even meet up with witchers returning to the keep for the winter." He pulled Spook to a stop. "Do you need a blanket?" He knew her blood was hotter than his and thus she felt the cold more keenly.

"No, not yet. The cold doesn't hinder me, it's just uncomfortable. Come on, we have a long way to go," she reminded him.

They stopped for a quick lunch a few hours later. He explained a couple of new herbs that he'd found, but that was about it, they were mounted and on their way. By his estimation they would reach Kaer Morhen within a couple of weeks. But it seemed the closer they got the more troubled she became.

That night it was he that requested she create a cabin. There wasn't much room, but a bed, hearth and small table was all they really needed. It wasn't because he enjoyed sleeping in one of her beds, though in truth he did, but he was concerned about her getting cold. They brushed down the horses, cleaned their hooves and set them free for the night before heading into the small cabin.

Once he had the fire going he handed her some dried meat and left the cabin to hunt up something to eat for himself. He wanted to save the dried meat for her because he didn't know when or if they'd hit another small town before they arrived at Kaer Morhen, at least not from the direction he was taking them. He caught sight of a hare, murmured an apology and threw his knife. It fell silently to the ground. He cleaned it there rather than at camp, rolled up the skin, wiped his knife on the grass and sheathed it. He impaled the corpse on a branch and carried it back to camp. He gathered stones, started a fire and began cooking it. It smelled heavenly, though he doubted Angel would agree.

He stepped into the cabin to find angel sitting cross legged on the bed staring off into space. "Wanted to let you know I was out front."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Would you like some company?"

His lips twitched and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Always, but I don't think you want to be there. I'm cooking dinner."

"It's okay," she said quietly. "I know there are few options and you have to eat."

"And so do you," he pointed out. "That dried meat is only going to last so long, so it needs conserved for times when we cannot hunt. And if you go out there, chances are you won't eat any of it."

She closed her eyes. "I'm trying. It's just…" her words trailed off.

He sat down on the bed and pulled her against him. "I know you are. You've had to make a lot of adjustments coming here. I can't even imagine how hard it would be to go through what you've gone through and you've come a long way. I'm proud of you." He gave her another squeeze and rose.

She watched him leave the cabin and sighed. She didn't feel much like being alone. She wrapped a blanket around her and went outside. She created a bench near the fire and sat down on it. She felt a sense of peace, at least for the moment, when he joined her. "Regardless of Ivanth, I'm glad you found me. I don't think I tell you how much I appreciate that you are who you are enough. At times I find myself thinking what might have happened if you hadn't found me. I would have arisen in a world where nothing made sense. I wouldn't have known where any towns were, I would have just wandered aimlessly until I either stumbled upon a town or someone stumbled upon me. If someone had stumbled upon me, what kind of person would they have been? Would they have tried to help or hurt me? Would I have had to kill them?" Her fingers played with the blanket's edge for a moment.

"I know I say I don't believe in destiny or fate or things happening for a reason and I've never questioned that before, but there are other times when I wonder how you happened to be just where you were at just the time you needed to be to find me? And what kind of luck was it that such a compassionate man would have been the one to find me? Was it all random chance? My rational mind says that it was just a series of fortunate events, but a small part of me wonders if that's the case, especially since I began feeling the pull. A pull isn't chance; it's a feeling or an instinct, not chance. And if that's the case then everything has happened just as it was supposed to so that I could be here where I am now."

There was much truth to her words, but it still bothered him. "We don't even know if this pull is good or bad," he reminded her.

She looked over at him. "That has no bearing. It simply doesn't matter whether I'm going to my death or beginning life anew or anything in between, because the pull tells me that's where I need to be."

"It matters to me," he said gruffly.

She bumped her knee to his. "I doubt I'm going to my death, it was a point I was making. Besides, it would take an awful lot of effort to actually keep me dead, and they'd have to know how to do it…that's not something I'm about to share with anyone. So, stop worrying."

He took the hare from the fire and leaned the skewer against the bench to allow it to cool a bit. He tilted her chin up and brushed his lips against hers. "I shall stop worrying when I have breathed my last." With a wink he turned away from her, placed a plate on each thigh and tore the meat from the bones. When the carcass was bare he tossed it into the fire and turned to hand a plate to her. He set it on her lap when she didn't take it right away. "Please eat, Angel, our journey is long," he said quietly before turning to his own plate.

She watched the fire crackle and spit but thankfully the bones were mostly obscured by the flames. She did her best to quell her belly and forced herself to eat what he had given her. She stopped for a moment when a wave of nausea hit her and she swallowed hard.

When they were done, she took their plates down to the stream to wash them. She wondered how they were going to clean the plates when there was no stream nearby. After cleaning them she set the plates on the bank and dabbed some cold water on her face. That did wonders for her roiling belly. He was just returning from the woods when she joined him at the fire.

He took the plates from her hand and carried them into the cabin to lay them on the table to dry. He turned to her and took hold of her icy hands. Without thought he slid them under his shirt, pressing her palms to the warmth of his skin and then covered her hands with his. "Next time I will wash them."

She groaned and leaned into him, his heat drawing her to him like a moth to a flame. "I am not helpless and I need to feel useful."

He closed his eyes. "It was never my intension to make you feel useless. I have never seen you as useless. You take care of the horses, you put a roof over our heads, I sleep on a cloud and wake up refreshed." He sighed. "But if you are determined to wash the dishes then I shall content myself with warming you afterwards. Deal?"

She grinned and slipped her hands out from under his to hug him. "Deal."

-BREAK EIGHT-

One day slid into another. They awoke every morning to train and recite the properties of useful herbs, followed by breakfast. They brushed out the horses, picked their hooves clean, checked their shoes, then saddled and rode out. Cabins dotted the path behind them. Every night they talked around the fire, he cooked their dinner, removing the meat from the bones, of course, and then sat quietly for awhile before he curled up next to her and went to sleep.

Occasionally they would run into drowners, but it seemed most monsters were tucking themselves away for the winter. At one point they had stumbled upon a wraith. He explained to her what it took to destroy a wraith, but true to her nature she preferred to locate her body and free her with the truth of her death. The spirit thanked her and departed. He couldn't have been more proud. He would have taken the easy way out, perhaps he'd become jaded over the years, but her outlook was refreshing and he needed that.

One thing he did miss was making love to her. The closer she got to Kaer Morhen the more apprehensive she became. He wasn't sure what to do to about it. That changed, however, when the skies opened up with icy rain. She created a cabin and stable, with a connecting door this time and they were drying off in front of the fire when he broke out his cards. He taught her how to play gwent. He explained the cards and their value. He'd been collecting for awhile and had some of every deck, but only Northern Realms and Nilfgaardian Empire consisted of full decks. He allowed her to choose which she favored and he gifted her with the deck she chose. Everyone should have at least on qwent deck.

She, of course, knew nothing of politics of the land so chose based solely on the fact that one of the decks had a sun on it. The game itself was confusing. She knew nothing of the people and items stamped onto the cards. The first 2 games they played through he played the games through against himself, showing her each card and how to place it and use it, when to pass and when not to pass.

After the second game she was starting to grasp the concept, but it seemed like a lot of trouble for a game. Mapping out a siege or a war was not really her idea of a relaxing, good time, but it seemed to be his, so she was willing to play.

They played a few rounds with coins, just so she would become familiar with betting and then he suggested something a little more fun. They would bet clothing instead of coin and the game took a very different turn for them. She flashed armor onto them and then dematerialized each piece as one of them lost.

By the time she had nothing left to remove he had only his pants and undersuit bottoms left on. With a grin he pulled her from her chair and onto his lap, his mouth capturing hers with a pent up need. His clothing was melted away by the time they made it to the bed.

He spent the rest of the day and the night in her arms, only leaving them long enough to eat or take a brief walk outside to answer the call of nature and let the horses out long enough to do theirs. It ended up raining three days in a row and he took advantage of this time with her.

He also taught her dice poker, which she caught on much faster to and appeared to enjoy playing it. By the time the sun broke on the fourth day their supply of jerked meat was depleted. From here on until they arrived at Kaer Morhen, they would have to rely on hunting alone. And they had to hope it did not rain for days again.

Though the ground was wet they practiced their morning rituals and then left the cabin behind. He looked back at the cabin one last time, etching it into his mind. Never had he been happier than the last few days with her. With a sigh, he turned Spook and caught up with Angel, patting Opal on the rump as he passed her.

When she told him what the mare's name was, he assumed the mare once belonged to a noble lady. But according to Angel, the mare did not appear to want to go back to that life. "You do realize that mares go into heat once a month? If Titan impregnates her, she will be useless as a witchers horse. He should be gelded as soon as possible, Angel. If left intact he will attempt to breed with every mare in heat. And you need to be able to rely on him in any situation, not have his mind fogged with instinct."

"How?" she asked him directly.

He flushed and cleared his throat. He squeezed his thighs together just thinking about it. "He's far too old for them to be clamped and cut, they will probably tie something tightly around his…er…jewels until they - er…"

She stared at him in horror. "Until they rot and fall off? No. Absolutely not. There must be another way. Hmm…the need to breed is an instinct, not a memory, so I cannot remove it or lock it away. But I think I can dampen it by binding it. I could probably destroy the instinct, but I won't. And I can certainly make sure he cannot reproduce, so in that regard he will be sterile, until I choose to lift it. He is a stunning male; I would love for him to have offspring someday." She pulled the blanket tighter to her. She hated that she would have to do that to him, but Davor was right, the alternative could prove inopportune at the very least and dangerous at its worst. "When we stop for the night, I'll take care of it," she said quietly.

He knew she had great power, but had no clue that she could sterilize someone. He wished becoming a witcher had not sterilized him. For the first time in his life he wanted children and he wanted them with her. "There is something you need to know. It didn't even occur to me until now. The mutations a witcher goes through…it sterilizes them. I'm not sure it is the same for women…but you may not be able to have children and for that I'm sorry."

She smiled softly at his regard for her. "That is not something you need to worry about. My body is sterile until I choose it to be otherwise." She frowned. "I had not realized witchers were sterile. But if they are as amorous as you say, then perhaps that is better than leaving behind a trail of offspring. Still, it is troubling. I'm sure some wish to eventually retire, take a wife and have a family. It is sad they are forever denied that."

"Most witchers choose to fight until they meet their end, but I've no doubt there are some that would love to retire to a life you describe. Especially those forced into service via the Law of Surprise." He was such a man and he wanted the life he was denied. "Can you reverse the sterilization?" he asked curiously.

She wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. She knew he was victim of the Law of Surprise. That he had been an Unexpected Child, forced to be a witcher and her heart ached for him. "I don't think so. I just don't know. If you were sterile for natural reasons, I could heal you…but you were mutated. I wouldn't know how to begin to correct such a thing. I fear it is beyond me. I'm sorry, Davor. More sorry than I can say."

He released a ragged breath. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about. I didn't expect there was anything you could do. No matter," he said with a grin he didn't quite feel. "There are always orphans and poor children in need of loving parents, if a witcher did decide to settle down."

It was sad that children suffered here. That anyone suffered. But there was only so much she could do. If it weren't approaching winter she'd make every field she passed grow thick, but as it stood there was little she could do. She had been studying the blankets that they had; they appeared to be made from hair of some kind. She might be able to make something passable and offer those to people, but that would not fill their bellies or their pocket with coin. "There are no orphans or poor where I come from. If one of us does die, children would be eagerly taken in by another to be raised. They are never forsaken."

"That sounds ideal. But how are there no poor?" he asked curiously.

"We all take care of each other," she said simply. "There are no poor, no rich. The Council has prestige and authority, but they live as all of us do. We want for nothing. Not that we all have exactly the same things, because our wants and needs are individual."

"Are there no criminals in the land of perfect?" he teased.

She cocked a golden brow. "As in thieves and bandits? No. Nothing like that. There would be no need. But there are laws that can be broken. Bringing a seedling to our home, interfering when we are sent to observe, hurting another….these types of crimes rarely happen. I don't know of any in my lifetime. But in theory their sentence could be anywhere from a rebuke to banishment. Their powers would be bound by the Council and they would be sent through a gateway never to return."

"I can see why there is little crime. To be banished from such a world…" he shook his head. Who would ever risk such a punishment? "You are immortals, isn't over population a concern?"

"Not precisely. Children are few and far between and our territory is rather vast. And if one chooses to take a break from everything, they can join the sleepers. We have planets dedicated to the sleepers. They are arranged by profession and can be talked to," she said pointing to her head, "if their wisdom is needed, otherwise they are at rest, sometimes for centuries."

He was beyond stunned. "That seems very practical and well thought out."

She laughed. "We have had a long time to work out all the details."

A comfortable silence settled between them for the rest of the day, each deep within their own thoughts. At night he held her though she tossed and turned restlessly. They were nearing the keep, should be within sight of it within a day or two and they were balancing on the edge of the precipice of the unknown. The only thing he did know for sure was that his nights were going to get a lot colder.


	2. Witcher Ch2 - Kaer Morhen

Witcher

Section Two

Kaer Morhen: A New Beginning

He pointed into the distance. "That is Kaer Morhen. It is still a couple of days away of heavy riding, but we are here, Angel."

She held her hand up to block the sun from her eyes. It was too far away to make out much of it, but it appeared to be some kind of sprawling castle that was built into the side of a mountain. Titan pranced and pawed at the ground. She knew he could feel her unease. Would they accept them? How would this change their lives? And how did the pull play into this? "Everything hinges on this. And even if they do not accept us, surely they will not turn us out with winter nipping at our heels. Come, Davor, let us see how this will play out." She nudged Titan into a canter.

After a couple of hours she pulled up and went still. The pull was not taking her to the keep. She reined Titan to the left and took off.

"Angel!" Well, hell. He turned his gelding and followed her. He kneed Spook into a gallop. Where was she going? And why so quickly? With the stallion's longer strides it was next to impossible to catch up to him. He watched as she pulled Titan to an abrupt halt and vaulted from the saddle. A cabin appeared behind her and she dropped to her knees.

A man. She turned his face. It was a face she knew, but she did not know the man. Why had the pull led her here? Was she meant to save him? His breath was shallow and reedy. She couldn't guess how he came to be in this field, but it was obvious his injuries were grave. She whisked away his blood soaked shirt and gasped at the jagged wound that tore across his side. She could see the red veins growing out from it and smelled the sour of infection. She grabbed the knife from her waist and with a hiss of pain she slit her wrist allowing her blood to drip into the wound. It was long enough to require a second slash. It was the injuries that could not be seen that concerned her more.

"Davor," she said as she rose from the prone man's side. "I need you to get him into the cabin. I can heal him better if I'm not shaking with cold."

"Geralt," he breathed out as he dismounted. It was hard seeing his friend so still. He looked near death. How had he ended up in this field with no weapons or armor? He opened his senses but saw nothing. It was as if he just appeared here from nowhere and hadn't moved since. "Of course," he said, still in a state of shock. How had she known to look here?

He bent low to scoop the man up in his arms. "Damn, my friend, you're heavier than you look," he mumbled as he carried him into the cabin and laid him down on the bed. "What can I do to help?" he asked when he turned to face her.

She rose from the hearth after getting a fire going. "You can get to the keep. I need you to prepare them for my arrival. You can bring back help if you like, but we will probably be on our way back to you before you reach us."

His mouth fell open. "I'm not about to leave you alone with Geralt!"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "The man has one foot in the grave, what do you expect him to be able to do? And once I've healed him, do you think he's going to have the strength to do much more than mount a horse?" She sighed and placed a hand on Davor's arm. "Do you believe he is the type of man that would force a woman to do something against her will? And even if he were that type of man, do you think me so weak as to be unable to stop him?"

He knew his fears were unfounded. Ridiculous even, in the light of whom and what she was. No, Geralt might be free with the ladies but he was no rapist. "You are right," he said as he released a ragged breath.

Relief flooded through her. She did not really relish healing Geralt in front of Davor. It would require skin contact and there was no need to put him through that if she could avoid it. "Tell them what you will about me and why we are here and then have them bring a wagon or something in case he is not strong enough to mount a horse. With luck, we won't need it."

"Fine," he growled. "Just do not let your guard down around him. He will not force you, but he does have a way with the ladies."

"Consider me warned," she assured him.

With a groan he captured her lips for a final kiss. "I'll leave behind the last of our food. I can hunt on the way if I must. One way or another, I'll come back with food and a wagon." He left the cabin and hurried over to the horses. He untied the food pouches and returned to the cabin to drop the pouches on the table. He took her hand and led her outside. He pulled her in for a hug before reluctantly releasing her. "I'll be back as soon as I can." And he would. There was not enough food to last two people several days. Unless Geralt became well enough to hunt, they would not eat until he returned or until they arrived at the keep, whichever was sooner.

He swung up into the saddle and turned to give her a final look. He brought his fist to his heart and then urged his gelding into a gallop.

She watched him leave and then returned to the cabin. With a wave of her hand she unclothed them and cleaned them as she approached the bed. She gave his body the once over to make sure nothing external required further healing. She could not stop her gaze from settling on his groin. She'd never seen a man soft before. She couldn't help but wonder what it would take to make it grow and what would it look like? She shook her head. There was no room for such silly, girlish thoughts.

She returned to the foot of the bed and crawled up on it. She straddled his waist briefly to move his arms up into place. "I'm sorry if this pains you at all, Geralt, but it is the only way I have to heal you. Please forgive the insult of my liberties." With that being said she laid her body flush on top of his, to include her arms and legs. She rested the side of her face below his chin and slowly began to absorb his injuries. The smaller injuries her body healed almost immediately, it was only after exhaustion began to set in that she healed more slowly. When she'd taken as much as she could for the night she slid off of him and her eyes drifted closed. She would begin again tomorrow.

Come morning he seemed to have a bit more color and his breathing was coming more naturally. He should be healed enough to awaken by tomorrow. She ate a bit of the food to fuel her and then returned to the bed. She was taking the healing slow so as not to overwhelm her body; a couple of hours of healing followed by sleep to heal herself. She awoke for a brief, late lunch and then returned to him once more. For just a moment she allowed her fingertips to play over the scars on his torso. How had he come by them all? Davor had a few scars, but nothing compared to Geralt. Maybe someday he would tell her. With a sigh she settled herself back onto him. She tried to ignore how right his body felt against her. The thoughts were unwelcome.

As the evening cooled the heat of his body lulled her to sleep.

-BREAK ONE-

He came to slowly, his brain foggy. But he could feel the press of a woman against him. Her breasts pressed against his side, her arm and leg thrown over him. What kind of night had he had that he couldn't even remember taking her to his bed? He opened his eyes slowly and sucked in his breath. She was beautiful enough to make his heart ache. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them up again, but an angel still greeted his vision. More often than not he'd go to bed with a beauty and wake up with a hag, alcohol playing him the fool. Though he was sure alcohol was to blame for his lack of memory, but at least this time he woke up with a treasure.

With a groan he rolled them over, settled between her legs and thrust into her heat. His body shuddered. She was so tight that she sheathed him like a glove. His mouth lowered to claim hers. He felt her legs encircle him, but rather than encourage him, they held him prisoner tight against her. That was when he felt her pushing at his shoulders and the warm wet trail that slid down his balls.

He rose up onto his elbows to look down at her. He could see the shock of pain on her face and feel her muscles quiver in protest around him. He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought…" he shook his head, it didn't matter what he thought, he'd roughly taken a virgin. He could not undo what he'd done. But he could repay her with pleasure.

He softly kissed the tears from each cheek and when he claimed her lips again it was with a gentle seduction. Warmth filled him when she opened for him and his tongue slid along hers with teasing flicks and hot promises. He felt himself thicken when she moaned and the kiss became hungry.

When her body began to tremble and her legs loosened he ground against her and began to move slowly and gently within her. With a groan of reluctance he broke the kiss, his mouth moving along her jaw line to her neck. She turned her head to give him room. The arch of her neck was more pleasing than it should have been. He was appalled that he wanted to bite her, but he pushed that feeling back and merely grazed his teeth against her followed by a gentle nip. Her body moved against him with a soft cry.

He trailed hot kisses down to her breasts. He cupped a breast and grazed his thumb across the tight peak. He felt her hand slip into his hair, freeing it from the band that held it. His hair fell forward, but her hands held it back as she guided his mouth to breast. With a groan he drew the peak into the heat of his mouth. Her soft cries of pleasure sent fire racing through his veins. Had he ever needed or wanted a woman this badly before? He couldn't remember.

After teasing and suckling her other breast he slipped from her heat with a groan to trail kisses down her rib cage. Another nip and he slid his tongue down to her navel and dipped it in. He rubbed his close cut beard against her lower belly. "You smell good…I cannot wait to taste you," he murmured huskily. It wasn't something he did often, most of his women had been whores and they were not very clean. He could not catch anything they carried, but it didn't mean he wanted to taste it. She was different…the scent of her hair, her skin…the scent of her desire…sweet…like nothing he'd ever smelled before.

His hands slid up her calves to her inner thighs, spreading them as they reached the apex. He slid one thumb then the other across her swelling flesh before spreading her soft petals to his hungry gaze. "So perfect," he growled, nearly blinded by raw hunger and need. He rubbed his chin against her, teasing her with the texture of his beard.

His heart flipped over in his chest when he heard her cry out his name. "Mine," he murmured before he could bite the word back. His tongue swept through her folds and took her into the heat of his mouth.

Her body was a live wire beneath him. The pleasure almost more than she could bear. She held him to her as he made her body sing as never before. All she could feel was the fire in her veins, the heat of passion and the raw pleasure that bore her helpless on a tide she had no control over. Her belly quivered as her hips rose to ride his mouth in abandon. She felt the slide of a finger into her and then a pleasure she'd never known washed over her. Her cries were loud and harsh and she didn't care, she just didn't want him to stop. Her body stilled for a brief moment until the buildup reached its peak. With a guttural cry she spun out over the abyss. She ground against him in desperate need as wave after wave crashed over her. As he eased her down her hands fell limp, her breathing harsh, her heart hammering.

His hands caressed her thighs and belly and his tongue sank into her to lap the sweet nectar of her release. He groaned against her reaching as deep as he could to get more. He slid back up her body and sank into her hot heat as he claimed her mouth in fiery kiss of hunger.

When her legs wrapped around him again, this time it wasn't to cage him, but to ride him. She met each hard thrust as he drove into her. Nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure of her clinging sheath, as if she were made for him and only him. His thoughts fled…there was nothing but pleasure and the sound of their mingled cries. He tumbled over the precipice with a shout as his seed exploded into her tight depths. She followed him over and her tiny muscles milked him until he had nothing left to give.

They clung to each other as their hearts slowed and their bodies cooled. He could not bear to withdraw from her, so he remained snug within her heat. Resting on his elbows he raised his head to look down on her. Still a breathtaking angel even with her hair dampened with sweat. "I don't even know your name."

She flushed. "Syn." At his grin her cheeks stung. "Syntl, but I go by Angel."

"I like sin," he teased gruffly. "But I can see why you are called Angel; that is what I saw when I woke up. An angel in my arms." Her glowing silver cat eyes caught him by surprise. "You are a witcher."

She wrapped her legs tighter around him to prevent him from pulling away. "Yes. New witcher. Train little."

Her stilted way of talking was odd. "What school do you come from?"

"Griffin. But I was given no choice. I was found, bound and had the mutation forced upon me.." she stopped when she saw the confusion on his face. This wasn't going to work. "I will give talk." She cupped the side of his face with her hand to give him the memory of her language and then she pulled him down, her tongue sinking into the heat of his mouth give him the muscle memory. She broke the kiss and dropped her head back to the pillow. "Can you understand me now?"

Her kiss had stoked the fires within him and he thrust into her. "Yes," he groaned, "but right now all I want is you." He rolled them over until she straddled him and with a grin he grabbed her hips and pulled her up his body. He slipped his arms between her thighs and pushed her hips until she straddled his face. He gripped her hips and brought her to his mouth.

She was caught off guard by the sudden movement and caught herself blushing hard when she looked down at him pleasuring her. She met his golden, glowing eye and could not look away. She caressed her aching breasts that longed for the heat of his mouth as his experienced lips and tongue twirled her away in a whirlwind of pleasure.

He watched her reach the pinnacle of pleasure before toppling over its peak. The expression on her face burned into his memory. His hands left her hips to skim up her back then around to cup her breasts. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and watched as she shattered again. When she finally slid down his body he found himself holding his breath. The choice to mount him would be hers.

His body shuddered and he cried out when he felt himself sink into her tight, hot heat. "Ride me, Syn.." he said in a thick, husky voice. Her movements were awkward at first until she found what pleased her most and then her eyes bore into him with surprise and she rode him hard. His hands skimmed over her body and before long he nearly begged for mercy. He was panting hard, trying to keep from coming, but she was relentless and it felt like trying to stop a boulder from rolling downhill by blowing against it. His testicles tightened and he growled out her name as her body took what he had to give her. Still she rode him, the pleasure so intense it was nearly painful until she arched back, gripping him tight when her body stiffened. Damned if he didn't find more to give her as she pulled him into the abyss with her.

She fell limply against his chest. She felt his arms come around her and for a moment she felt like this was where she was supposed to be. She knew it was silly to even think that. She knew what kind of man he was. She'd let him catch her off guard and the consequences were hers to bear. And those consequences were costly. She knew she could never go back to Davor's arms, it wouldn't be fair to him, and she knew Kael was now beyond her reach. She wanted no one but the stranger beneath her. A stranger that preferred multiple women to one. But she would never allow herself to become one of the many, even if that meant she would be alone.

He kissed her damp forehead and held her tight. To wake up to an angel in his arms only to have her take him to a heaven he didn't know was possible. And yet it still was not enough. Would it ever be enough? It had to be. He had a job to do, there was no time dawdle for long with a woman. Yet, somehow, this didn't feel like dawdling, and the implications were more than he cared to think on. He couldn't allow himself to care; he would become a liability to himself if he didn't remain focused on his job. She was just a pleasant diversion and that was all.

It was settled. With that firmly in mind he had to find out what happened. His arms loosened. "Do you know how I ended up here?"

"The cabin? Davor carried you in."

"Who is Davor?" he asked curiously.

She was stunned. "You don't remember? He considered you a friend; it was why we came here."

He frowned. "I don't remember much of anything. I remember my name, that I am a witcher, but little else of import. I don't know where here is," his voice began to rise. "I don't know where my armor, or my swords, or even my horse is. There is a black hole where my memory should be."

She leaned forward and stroked his face and cheeks softly, her lips grazed over his as she squeezed her muscles around him. He groaned and his body shuddered beneath her. "Shh….I will show you what I can." She slipped through his mind and found the folders she needed for combat and what appeared to be…plants? She releases the binds of those memories as she slowly rode him. There had been other bound folders, but she did not release them. She would not risk it. If the events were so traumatic that he locked the memories away himself, to be confronted with them could break him at the very best or cause his mind to slip into insanity. No, those memories would come when they were ready to.

He felt the memories return, not many but some. He was distracted by her by her movements and the pleasure she was giving him. "Can you release any more?" He released a harsh pant.

"I have done what I can. The others are locked away and will come when they are ready." She drew her tongue along a scar on his upper chest and flicked his nipple before grazing it with her teeth. She moaned when his hips bucked into her.

"What have you done to me?" he asked, near delirious with pleasure. "Are you a sorceress to come and steal my soul?" the words were little more than a whisper, before he growled, gripped her hips and drove into her like a man on the verge of madness. He emptied himself in her hot depths with a roar, his body trembling from exhaustion.

Her body tingled. She had enjoyed the rough play more than she thought she would. "I have power, but I have no magic as you know it." She waggled her brows. "Though I'd steal your heart did I have the power to do so," she teased.

He grunted. "Haven't you heard? The White Wolf has no heart."

She let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah well, then your soul will have to suffice, I suppose," she said giving his shoulder a nip.

"Witch," he growled.

"No…witcher," she said with a grin.

He groaned at the bad joke. "I don't think I can move."

She laughed, despite being bone weary herself. "And here I thought witchers were known for their stamina. Clearly mistaken, that."

"You're a cold woman," he growled and yanked her down against him. His arms caged her. "You'll stay here until I can prove you wrong."

Their eyes grew heavy as sleep overcame them.

-BREAK TWO-

As he approached the main gate two men rode out to greet him. "My name is Davor. Please take me to Master Vesemir. I have come a great distance to speak with him."

Eskel scratched the stubble on his chin. He caught sight of the Griffin medallion. "Ok, brother, we will take you to him. Follow us."

"So we are to just let anyone through the gates?" Lambert bit out.

"Ignore him, he thinks he's witty,"Eskel replied. "You are arriving late in the season; do you plan to winter here?"

"That is my hope, but there is much Master Vesemir needs to know," he said as he gave an uncertain glance to the grumpy witcher.

"While I'd love to see _Master_ Vesemir's face when you tell him that, I have more important things to do," he said as he wheeled his horse around and headed back out. They were to bring a deer to the table, guess it was his job alone now. Figures.

"He was born grumpy, you'll get used to him," Eskel told him with an easy grin as they passed under the portcullis. "I'm Eskel and that was Lambert. Vesemir should still be in the courtyard working with Leo. He's the youngest of us here and while he's completed his training, he's not gone through the mutation yet."

They dismounted in the courtyard and Eskel led him to Vesemir. "Vesemir, I would like you to meet Davor, our brother from Griffin. He has much he wanted to discuss with you."

Davor grasped Vesemir's forearm in greeting. "Well met, Master." He took the man's hand, ripped the medallion from his neck and settled it on the older man's palm. "As Eskel said there is much I need to tell you. The first being that I renounce Griffin and wish to join the Wolf.

Vesemir looked down at the medallion in shock. Seldom did witchers leave the schools that trained them in such permanent fashion. Not that he would refuse him, but he needed to know why and he wanted to test him.

Eskel looked from one man to the other. This was far more than he'd expected. "I'll just go and work with Leo."

"No," Vesemir said as he slipped the medallion into his pocket. "Stay, I think this story will require two level heads." He turned back to Davor. "Would you be willing to share with us the secrets behind Griffin's magic use?" he asked eyeing the young man.

Davor straightened his shoulders. "That I will not do, Master, just as I would not betray Wolf School secrets, but what I do have to tell you is far more alarming than how they teach magic."

Vesemir nodded. The boy had told him what he wanted to hear. Had he betrayed the School's secrets he would not have been admitted into the Wolf School. "Then follow me, son. My old bones could use a chair. Eskel, send Leo out to help Lambert, then join us."

Eskel sent Leo on his way along with the direction he'd seen Lambert take and caught up with the men as they sat down at the long table.

"Start wherever you feel comfortable, son. There is no hurry," Vesemir assured him.

He looked from Vesemir to Eskel and then released a steadying breath. "What I'm about to tell you will be horrifying yet it will also seem fantastical at times. Please listen to what I say with an open mind. Close to two months back Teltin and I was out scouting when the sky turned teal and tore open, there was lightning and high winds, we feared one of the boys…"

"Fucked up badly?" Eskel asked trying to get him to continue.

"Yes, at least that was until we saw something fall out of the rip in the sky. Telly thought that it was just a rock, but as we approached I discovered it was a woman. She was in unusual and light armor, but there was no way she should have been able to survive such a fall. There was an aura of power around her, yet my medallion remained silent, but warm. I still don't know why it is warm around her, but it detected neither magic nor monster."

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "I knew we couldn't just leave her there, so I decided to take her to Master Ivanth. He was the only one I knew that would know how to help her. But I'd misjudged him. As soon as he felt her power he had me take her below the keep. No one ever goes down there unless they are to begin the trials. I wanted to flee with her, but I would bring the whole school down upon us. In the end I had no choice. I could not hold her and fight off a dozen men or more."

He was quiet for a moment. "He had me shackle her to the table. I threw everything I could think of as an argument over what he was about to do, but in the end he told me to leave and so I did. I stormed out of the room and just left her there. I rode until I thought my horse would drop and settled in at the first inn I found. It was my fault this was happening to her and if she was to suffer I should have to watch, it was my guilt to bear. So I returned to the keep. I had failed her twice. Once in the bringing and once in the fleeing. I would not fail her again." He sighed and clenched his fist.

"By the time I got back, she had already survived the Trial of the Grasses, though she had not woken, or at least I didn't think she had. I took her hand as he prepared her for the Trial of the Dreams. Master Ivanth had been up all night, but he was not alone. Philippa Eilhart was with him. I don't know what experiments they performed on her while I was gone, Philippa pointed out that her irises were too large and her canines too long to be human, but nor did silver have any effect on her. She was as fascinated by the woman's power as Ivanth was. If she'd have been told of her before the first trial, she'd have taken her to the lodge to become a sorceress." In that regard, he was pleased she had not been brought in earlier.

"They were unable to remove her armor, so they could not ascertain the damage she received in the fall, but they believed she was in some sort of healing trance, which was why she had not yet awakened. What I had found out before even bringing her was that magic had no effect on her. When she started to stir I tried to use a sleep spell, I didn't want her to feel the pain of the ride. In the end I gave her a small potion, but it should not have lasted very long. While they were talking I felt her grip on my hand and knew she was awake. I did not let on. Regardless what happened I knew I would stand by her side. It was the least I could do for her."

"I baited them until we learned all their plans. If, when she came to, she became a problem, Philippa intended to cast a spell that would control her mind. If that failed, they intended to kill her. If she didn't survive, he didn't care, because he'd learned much in the process and decided Griffin would be the first school to create female witchers."

He drew his hand into a fist. "Her body suffered from tremors and sweating but she gave nothing away, they still thought her asleep. I continuously wiped her brow to keep the sweat from stinging her eyes. I have never seen anyone go through so much pain yet show so little reaction. When she signaled against my palm that she intended to run, I waited until they unhooked her from the beakers before I blasted them back with aard. She …well, she froze them in place and said she removed the memory of how to alter the mutations for females. She then changed her armor to look like Griffin armor…and no, I don't mean put on Griffin armor…it literally just changed and then we escaped on horseback. I trained her as much as I could during our long trek here."

Vesemir looked at Eskel, but they were both at a loss for words. They didn't disbelieve him; the sincerity and misery were plain in his eyes. But it was a lot to take in. Vesemir cleared his throat. "What Griffin has done…we will make it known. It is unforgivable. Ivanth will lose his position, most likely in a very permanent way. Tell us more about the girl. She has strong powers but no magic? What have you learned?"

He released a long breath. "Though it is not my story to tell, she has given me leave. But this is the part that is fantastical. If I had told you this first, you never would have believed me about Ivanth. In fact I…" he shook his head. "Perhaps some things are best left unknown."

Eskel laid a hand on Davor's arm. "You've come this far, we would like to hear the rest. It is obvious you care for the girl and have a deep faith in her. Knowing that, brother, we will not judge her harshly." He glanced at Vesemir, whose nod set him at ease.

Here goes everything. "Her true name is Syn, well Syntl, but due to what people would read into her name, she goes by Angel." A soft grin played on his lips. "A kindly old man gave her the name and it stuck. Angel is not from around here and by that I mean she is not of this world. She hales from a very distant place. She fell by accident through what she calls a gateway to arrive here. The gateway malfunctioned and she could not return home. This explained the tear in the sky that she fell through. I taught her some of our language, but we needed to communicate better so she gave me the tongue of her people so that I could understand her. Likely, she will have to do so with you, Master Vesemir."

He took a deep breath. "Her species is known as Kin. They predate all living species. She said her kind was born from the dark matter that created the galaxies. That – that is more than my head can grasp. They are a winged species, but the wings become little more than tattoos down the back and legs when they are not open. I – I cannot even explain the beauty of watching them open. She can create things and kill with naught more than a thought. She can communicate with animals and with the dead. Her body is well honed and she fights like the wind. She learns quickly and her mind is agile. She is the perfect warrior, the perfect witcher, just don't try to feed her meat on the bone or make her hunt."

Davor had been correct, it was a fantastical story. But the last bit sent his mind screeching to a halt. "What?" Veemir asked. "Don't feed her meat on the bone?"

Davor flushed. "Where she comes from they don't kill animals to eat their flesh. I've slowly gotten her to eat meat, but she will not kill nor will she eat from a carcass. I would also not give her fur blankets this winter. That would not go over well either."

Vesemir cleared his throat. "Yes, well…I won't make her hunt and you are more than welcome to pick the meat off the bones for her," he said with a shrug. "If she is as powerful as you believe and a new witcher then I imagine you brought her here to be trained. As long as she is no danger to us, then I welcome training her."

Davor did not realize the look on his face gave more away than he intended. "You will not find a gentler soul. She would put herself in danger to help another. She has more compassion in her little finger than most people do in their whole body. But there is one puzzling thing you should be aware of. On our way here I brought her to Emereth to make her appropriately sized swords. He fell to his knees before her and called her his queen. Her return, he said was prophesied. 'When the winds of change turn cold, the heavens will tremble, justice takes flight and the king shall hunt no more'. I do not know what he means by that, but her name, Syntl, means justice, both in her language and in ancient elven, which was illegally taught to the elves by one of her elders." That was all he was going to say about that. He had no intension of telling them that the Kin seeded the galaxies and they were all naught but seedlings in a garden that were constantly being observed. They had more than enough to swallow.

Vesemir looked at Eskel and then back to Davor. "'When the winds of change turn cold, the heavens will tremble, justice takes flight and the king shall hunt no more'…the winds of change turn cold, maybe winter, maybe something far greater in meaning…with prophecies and riddles it is hard to tell. The heavens will tremble…according to you that is what happened before she fell from the sky. That makes sense. Justice takes flight, if that is her name and she is a winged species, then that part makes sense too. And the king shall hunt no more. It could be any of the kings around here, but why make a prophecy about a king who hunts? That makes little difference in anything…unless…" His eyes opened wide. "Oh, damn me. It could also mean the king of the Wild Hunt. But we can't know that for sure. I'll speak to Triss about it, get a sorceress' opinion, we'll figure it out together." He released a slow breath and grunted. Goddamned prophecies…worse than running through a maze blindfolded. "You are both welcome here," he said to Davor.

"Vesemir, are you sure about this? If it's the king of the Wild Hunt, do we want him to come to Kaer Morhen?" Eskel voiced uneasily.

"If it is about him, even if he is aware of the prophecy, he doesn't know she's here. Emereth would never say anything; she is a deity to him. For now, she will be far away from any other elves that might know her for who she is. And if the time comes that we ever do have to take him on, it is likely a lot of ancient elves will also pick up her banner and follow her. Let Triss and I worry about that. Go and fetch two medallions." He turned his attention back to Davor. "Call me Vesemir, we do not stand on the same formality that you are used to. Where is our youngest witcher?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "She is with Geralt. She found him as we neared. I'm not sure how she found him; she just pulled her stallion to a stop and then turned in another direction and took off. He was gravely wounded. She sent me on ahead to talk with you while she stayed behind to heal him."

Vesemir rose. "Then they have been out there in the cold for days."

Davor shook his head. "They are staying at a cabin, they are warm and I left them with some food."

Vesemir scratched his head and folded his arms over his chest. "That can't be right; there are no cabins on our grounds."

Davor grinned at the older man. "I did tell you that she can create things with a thought? They are safe in a cabin Ma – Vesemir. But they will run out of food soon. And unless Geralt has been healed enough to hunt…" he shook his head. "I promised her I'd come back with food and a wagon in case he was not well enough to ride back."

Eskel returned with the medallions and handed them to Vesemir. "She does not have to the go through the Trial of the Medallion?"

Vesemir shook his head. "The woman may be lacking in training, but she is already a witcher. She has survived far worse than the Trial of the Medallion. She has earned it."

"I would agree. She trapped a demon with his own words. He would have been forced to kill himself, but I decapitated him before he could. He was a type of nightmare demon, old and powerful, judging by what we saw, and he used my fears against me to try to force me to kill her. I could not let that go."

Eskel shook his head. Everything he'd heard was just so hard to believe. "She outsmarted a demon. I am impressed."

"I am too," Vesemir said thoughtfully. Demons were not to be trifled with, not even by a witcher.

"Have her tell you about it someday. It is a story worth hearing," davor told him.

"I will do that," Vesemir said as he stepped forward and placed the medallion around Davor's neck. "Welcome to the Wolf School, son. There are not many of us left, but you are one of us now." He turned to Eskel. "Get Triss and hook up a wagon, apparently Geralt's been injured and our newest witcher has been healing him. We don't know what condition he's in, but we ride out in half an hour. Davor, follow me. We'll get some food in your belly before we move out."

-BREAK THREE-

He awoke to the sound of birds chirping. He felt more invigorated than he had when he first awoke last night. He felt a strange sense of comfort from the weight of her head upon his chest and her body pressed against him. For a brief moment he felt he'd been offered a glimpse of ordinary. He cupped her head and tilted it up to brush his lips against hers. "I believe I was given a challenge last night."

She laughed and shook her head. "I was only teasing you Ger; you have nothing to prove to me."

"You cannot back out of it. You threw down the gauntlet and I accepted. It is a matter of honor," he murmured softly as his hands skimmed down her back.

She arched against him with a moan. "And honor is that important to you?"

"It is now," he growled as his mouth claimed hers and his body roared to life.

By lunch time her belly was growling and she acknowledged he'd won the challenge.

With a deep laugh he slipped from the bed and stepped outside to take care of more personal matters.

She grinned and shook her head. The man just strolled outside free as you please in nothing but his skin as if he hadn't a care in the world. He had a splendid form, she was hardly complaining. She laid out food for them to eat.

When he stepped into the cabin he saw the strange black garments that molded to her body. He blinked when he felt a slight restriction and looked down to see a similar garment hugging his hips down to mid thigh.

"Sorry," she grinned, "you were a bit too distracting and I need to eat. We need to eat," she pointed out.

He settled down at the table. "We are at Kaer Morhen. I didn't know we were so close. I know you said Davor brought me into the cabin, but do you know what happened before that?"

She swallowed the food she'd been chewing and shook her head. "No, I only found you lying out in the field. I created the cabin, Davor brought you in and then he took off to the keep to let them know what happened and I stayed here to heal you."

He nodded. It was too much to hope that she knew what had happened to him. "I was going to ask you about the cabin. You created it?" He looked around at the odd furniture and the strangely glowing walls. "You made all of this and you are a healer too?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I'm not..I mean, I've never been human. I'm Kin. I'm not bound by the laws of your world." She grinned. "That didn't come out as intended. I meant only that I do not fit neatly into a category of your world. I am not a sorceress, I have no magic as you understand it, and there is nothing here that I can be compared to. I simply fell out of a malfunctioning gateway and am stranded here."

He studied her for a moment. He could hear the truth in her words. "Your eyes, your teeth, the remarkable tattoo that spans your backside, it's all part of what you are. Kin," he surmised. He pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward. "Tell me everything."

And so she did. She told him everything she'd told Davor. And like Davor, he was not pleased to that anyone saw him as a seedling in some garden, but for some reason, like Davor, he let it slide. It ended with her rising from the table and turning her back to him. Her clothing melted away and she drew her wings slowly open. She could not open them all the way, there wasn't the room, but it would do.

He gasped and rose from the table. Her golden wings with cream colored feathers flecking them were breathtaking. He'd seen many winged creatures, but none with wings so beautiful. His medallion remained silent as it always had around her, but it was warm she was the only one that had ever caused that reaction from it. He stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. His had slid down her flat belly and his fingers trailed through the soft fleece to find her.

She moaned and arched back against him, her hands reaching back to grip his thighs. She felt his other hand glide up to caress her breasts as his lips, teeth and tongue played havoc with her neck. When she felt his teeth settle against her upper shoulder where it met the bend of her neck her hand stole to the back of his head. "Do it," she moaned.

He didn't know why he felt the need to bite her. He never wanted to bite anyone before and he was repulsed by the need that he couldn't explain. But when her hand held him against her and her words encouraged him, he was helpless to stop himself. His teeth sank into her soft skin and blood sweeter than any mead flowed over his tongue. He drew on the wounds wanting more of the energy giving mana. He felt her body stiffen a moment before she shattered against his hand.

With a growl he spun her around and captured her mouth. Her wings, like her arms encircled him in feathery softness. His hands slid down her ass to grip her thighs and hoist her up his body. When her legs locked around his waist he carried her to their bed and made love to her as her wingtips caressed his body. When his forehead finally fell to meet hers he felt the sting of her bite. His body shuddered in pleasure as she drew on his blood. Now he understood how erotic it had been for her.

She withdrew her fangs from his skin and bit her tongue to close the wounds. She drew her wings in and pulled him down for a kiss. Their time here was almost over; at least she would have memories to sustain her.

Propped up on his elbows he looked down at her. "Why did I bite you?" He shook his head. "I know you can't answer that. But why did you allow it?"

She bit her lip as she thought about the question. She didn't know why she allowed it…encouraged it even. "I - I don't know. It wasn't a conscious choice exactly, more of a need. Kin often bind themselves with blood if a relationship is strong enough or intimate enough. Usually it's for location purposes. It allows us to feel when another is in pain or danger and we can flash to their side to help them. I have such a bond with Davor. He is my best friend here… I don't want to see him hurt."

For some reason it irritated him that she had that kind of bond with Davor, but he didn't want to look too closely at it, she was a pleasant diversion and nothing more. "He's a witcher, comes with the job."

She knew he was right, but she still intended to help if she could. "That is true, but everyone could use a guardian angel from time to time."

His thumb stroked her soft, golden hair. "That doesn't explain us."

"No," she said quietly. "It doesn't."

"As a witcher I kill vampires, yet I was driven to bite you and drink your blood..."

She wasn't sure why it happened, but now she felt regret, for his sake. "I'm sorry; do you want me to remove the memory?"

"What? You can – No! I have enough missing pieces of my life; I don't need to add to it. I'm not upset about it, Angel. I'm just trying to understand it. Talking out loud helps me organize my thoughts." He ran his fingers over where he'd bitten her, but her skin was blemish free. For some reason its absence bothered him. But why? No. Not going there. "This blood…bond between us, what does it do?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "It wasn't created with a purpose in mind, at least not any that I'm aware of." What concerned her was that it was more typical of a bond between mates. A bond created from passion. But they weren't mates. There must be some other reason. "But it is still a bond and can be used in a similar manner as a location bond."

He grinned. "So I could summon you anytime I was…in need?"

Her eyes narrow and she gave his shoulder a hard enough shove that he rolled off of her. She flashed undersuits and armor on both of them and rolled out of bed. "There's something I want to show you," she said woodenly as she left the cabin.

His head dropped to the pillow. What just happened? He'd tried to compliment her. He'd rather have her in his bed than another woman. When he realized how it sounded he closed his eyes and groaned. He'd just told her she was little more than a whore. "Well, fuck…" he mumbled and rose from the bed.

He heard her whistle as he stepped out of the cabin. Two horses trotted up to her, a magnificent golden stallion and fancy white mare. Strapped to the side of the mare's saddle was a pair of witcher swords. She was talking quietly to them and rubbing their muzzles by the time he reached them.

"Titan is my boy." She turned to the white mare. "Opal, this is Garalt, your new partner. Go get his scent so you are familiar with him."

Geralt was stunned when the mare approached him and gave him a long sniff. "She understood you," he said stroking the mare's face.

"Yes," she said. "Females are more intelligent than you give them credit for. Do not treat her like a possession. Treat her like the partner she is and you will not find a more loyal being."

He released a harsh breath. He could feel the chill of her words. The words she spoke were not just concerning the horse. "I didn't mean it like it sounded. I was trying to compliment you."

Her eyes glowed like liquid silver. "By relegating me to the status of a whore?" She fanned her face dramatically. "Whatever shall I do, Geralt? You're compliments will make me swoon."

He stepped away from the mare and grabbed her by the forearm. The stallion tossed his head and pawed the ground in warning. "I'm not going to hurt her," he said to the stallion. He blinked. Yes, he just talked to the horse like he would have to a man. He shook his head. "I'm not good with flowery words. What I was trying to say is you're the only woman I want in my bed!" Had he really just said that?

Her throat tightened with emotion. "So what does that make me? Your mistress? A friend with benefits? You still don't get it. I'm more than a vagina, Geralt." She released a shaky breath. "I was saving my virginity for love…for marriage. But just because…" she swallowed hard… "I'm no longer a virgin doesn't mean I will settle with being some man's piece. My morals, despite what it may seem, didn't disappear with my innocence." With a final pat to Titan she headed back towards the cabin. "Opal, everything on her and the undergear and armor you are wearing are all yours, we move out tomorrow morning."

He wanted to stop her, but what could he say? Sex was all they could have. He couldn't offer her anything else. Witchers led solo lives, finding comfort where they could…something she would discover soon enough. The pain that thought caused him…one more thing he refused to think about. She was just a pleasant diversion. Reality would resume tomorrow.

With a sigh he scratched behind the mare's ear. "I won't call you Opal. Your name is Roach." He wasn't sure why he called every horse Roach, maybe it was his way of not becoming attached. Regardless, it made things easier. The mare butted her head against his chest then tossed her head in the direction of the cabin. She was quite clear in what she was telling him. Were all horses this smart? Had he always been blind to what they had to say? Or was it something she brought out in them? "I'm going, I'm going," he mumbled. But there was really nothing he could say.

She laid out the last of their food, even added some warm, sweet bread. It wouldn't provide much nourishment, but they would at least go to bed with full bellies. She glanced up when he entered the cabin. "We should have left this morning. Davor said we are a day or two away depending on how hard we push the horses and this is the last of our food."

"Then we'll hunt," he said quietly as he sat down at the table. "There is plenty of game on the grounds." He wondered how he remembered Kaer Morhen, but the memories were probably released with the others.

She studied him a moment. "I'm sorry, I don't hunt. But let me know when you need to and we can stop for awhile."

"The bread tastes good. Light. Soft. Sweet. Did you make it?"

"I created it, but it is not from my home. I don't know where it's from. We live off a paste created from the natural ingredients of our homeworlds. But we occasionally have something akin to a banquet where we bring delicacies from the worlds we are observing to share with the others."

"Other worlds…other people. If I hadn't met you I wouldn't have believed it," he admitted. He shook his head and then eyed her. "How did you survive this long without hunting?"

"We would buy extra food at the inns and take it with us. Davor even went so far as to buy jerked meat. He didn't tell me what it was, I didn't ask, but I ate it when we ran out of inn food. I didn't eat meat at all before I met him. It took a lot to get me to start eating it. I'll eat it in small quantities now, but I won't kill." Every being had a right to its life unless it chose to hurt others.

"And if there were no inns nearby and you ran out of food?" he asked pointedly. Her silence was all the answer he needed. "While on the path you find a hut, the family is starving because the husband was injured and could not hunt. You could heal him, but it would take too long, one of the youngest would perish. Would you hunt for them?"

His words tore at her. She lowered her head; tears slipped from her eyes and fell silently down her cheeks. "I would hunt," she said in a strangled voice. "Then I would heal him." But the pain of what she had to do would haunt her.

"And if you found a surviving wolf pup, its mother and siblings dead. Would you hunt for it and later teach it to hunt so it could survive? Or would you slay it as a baby so it did not starve to death?"

Her gaze rose to meet his. She could barely make him out through the tears that swam in her eyes. "Why are you asking me these things?"

He wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her tears away, but he didn't. Though stopping himself was harder than he thought it would be. Why did he care? Because she healed him? It didn't matter. He pushed the need to comfort her aside. Life here wasn't easy and neither were the choices she'd be forced to make. "Because we are all tested on the path, often in ways that torment us. We are forced to make decisions we never thought we'd face. Sometimes we learn more about ourselves and how far we'd go than we are comfortable with. And you did not answer my question."

She didn't like it, but she knew he was right. But what would she do? If she saved the puppy it would become a child to her or a loyal friend. But to save it, she would have to take the lives of many other creatures that had just as much right to life. She knew she could not just leave the puppy to starve slowly to death, but could she kill it when it needed her most? "I don't know," she admitted honestly.

He rose from the table and left the cabin to enter the woods behind it. He followed the path he'd taken before. He spotted the body of the panther that had attacked him earlier, when he'd gone out to relieve himself, and then used his senses to follow her trail. Her teats were enlarged, but her leg swollen, saliva dripped from her mouth. Her movements had been pained, sluggish…she had attacked him out of desperation. She'd had cubs to feed. Her death meant their death, but he'd chosen not to investigate further at the time. It was the cycle of life.

Her tracks led to a small cave. What he would give for some cat's eye potion right about now. As it was, he could rely only on his senses. He lowered himself to his hands and knees and proceeded into the cave. He found blood and the body of a dead snake within the cave. That explained the she-cat's injury. She had chosen a bad location to bring her cubs to. Its venom had been slowly killing her. His hand bumped something soft. He felt three small bodies and nothing else.

He left the den and refocused his senses until he found another set of tracks. The path was well worn; she'd travelled it many times. No doubt that it would lead to her previous den. She'd moved her cubs one at a time to the new den. He heard the soft cries before he'd even locate the mouth of the den. Within he found a sole cub. It was either the last of her litter or the rest had wandered out of the den and fell prey to scavengers. That this one had not done the same was surprising. Perhaps it was more cautious or had been asleep; regardless it was hungry now and could no longer remain silent.

He scooped the cub up and started back down the trail to their cabin. A smiled tugged at his lips when he felt the cub suckle his finger. He wasn't sure why he'd gone to this trouble. It wasn't his goal to torment Angel. But life was hard here, there were often no right or wrong answers and sometimes you just had to choose between two wrongs and hope, in the end, you chose well. Sometimes…sometimes you just had to face your demons and make a stand. This cub's fate would be that demon to Angel. He knew it was harsh, but she'd be forced to make many hard choices on the path. It was the only thing he could think of to prepare her.

By the time he'd reached the cabin the table had already been cleared, their stuff packed for quick travel tomorrow and she was lying in their bed. He set the sleeping cub down, removed his armor and undergear and then scooped the cub back up.

The sounds of his armor coming off stirred her from her thoughts. She rose to a seated position. She could not prevent the traitorous slamming of her heart or the way her body heated up as she watched him undress. Nor could she look away. Her greedy gaze devoured him. But that didn't mean she would let him make love to her again. She was in night clothes for a reason. She wouldn't let herself be nothing but a man's play thing. And she'd heard enough about the man's reputation that she knew that's all she'd ever be to him.

She had thought he'd just stepped out to take care of nature's call. She started to worry as time dragged on. But she knew that she would know if he were in danger. Their bond assured that. So she cleaned up and went to bed. The bed felt cold and empty but it was something she would have to get used to again. She was relieved he'd left without making her answer, but the question would not release her. It was what she was still pondering when he finally returned.

She had been admiring his shapely backside when he turned back around. Now her gaze was on something else entirely. Something that reacted and started growing under the heat of her gaze and she was helpless to look away. Helpless to stop her body's response to him. His harsh intake of breath caused her eyes to rise to meet his. The hunger that glowed in his eyes took her breath away. She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. No. It didn't matter. She could handle this.

He'd nearly dropped the cub under her hot scrutiny, wanting nothing more than to strip off her clothing and slide into her heat. His body was trembling with need by the time her eyes met his. Right now he regretted what was about to happen. He wanted to make love to her not test her on the harshest level. He sat down next to her on the bed. "Earlier today, when I had need of…the woods I was attacked by a sickened panther. I killed it. Examination showed me she was most likely a mother," he said gruffly. "I did not think about it again until tonight when I questioned you. This," he said as he placed the black cub in her lap, "is what I found. The mother and its siblings were bitten by a snake. That is what had sickened the mother, condemning her to a slow, painful death, and likely killed the cubs immediately. She was in the process of moving her litter to a new den, away from the scent of the birth den. I found him alone at the birth den."

She had not noticed the dark bundle in his arms. She had been too distracted. But his words and the weight on her lap caused her brain to start functioning again. She looked down at the soft, warm bundle and lost her heart to blue tinted eyes and adorable yawn. "You adorable little soul," she said softly. Her heart then melted into a gooey puddle when he began suckling her finger. "You are a thirsty one." She turned to the man next to her. "He's beautiful. Thank you." She grazed her lips against his cheek..or at least intended to, but he turned into the kiss and their lips met instead. "I can produce the milk he needs, but I don't know how to get it into him. If only he were a little older."

"Produce milk…as in…as in…would your milk even sustain him?" That was not something he'd even considered, didn't even think it possible. And he didn't at all like the idea of a cub suckling her breasts.

She smiled softly. "Our genetics are the building blocks of all life; it may not be ideal milk, but it will sustain him until I can get him onto solid food. I just don't know how to get it into him." She lowered her eyes back to the hungry kitten. Pain shot through her chest. Her top melted away and her hand covered her breast with a pained gasp. "Note to self…do not fill them so full," she said through clenched teeth.

He glanced down at breasts that were once large, but now swollen, hard, the flesh pink. He'd once seen a farmer use some kind of hot compress on a cow's impacted udder once. That and massage helped the cow. But she was not built like a cow. He couldn't very well massage her and then pull on her teat. She didn't have teats. But her pain was obvious. "I once saw a farmer help his…cow. She suffered a similar problem…"

"Anything," she gasped as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He gently cupped her breast; it was hot and hard to the touch. He started massaging from the base, as he'd seen the farmer do, and slowly worked his way down her breast. He was not oblivious to the pain the massaging was giving her, but he knew of no other way. When her nipple tightened he lowered his head with a groan and drew the peak into the heat of his mouth.

Pain mixed with pleasure as he suckled her breast. She slipped her hand through his hair and cupped the back of his head, holding him to her. She felt a tingle, then a rush and relief slowly came to her breast.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't the sweet honey that sprayed into his mouth and it wasn't the unwanted feelings that came with the intimacy of the act. He let the nipple slip from his lips and trailed hot kisses to her other breast. When he finished he raised his head and claimed her lips. When he finally broke the kiss he rested his forehead against hers for a moment before pulling back. "I'm not sure how to get it into him. It would take too long to fill a waterskin with milk. A leather harness maybe? To cover your breast in a thin layer of leather? I'm just – I don't know anything about that sort of thing. My training never covered breastfeeding," he said with a twitch of his lips.

"Funny," she said and pulled his forehead to her for a kiss. She focused on creating a harness, thin enough to be pliable but still offering protection from a rough tongue and claws. Once satisfied she cradled the cub in her arm and squeezed her breast to release a few drops of milk as she rubbed the covered tip on his lips. The cub was quick to catch on and latched on tightly, his paws massaging her breast. She released a sigh and looked over at him, unable to decipher the odd look in his eyes. Probably disgust. "How long do you think he will need this?" she asked motioning to her breasts.

For just a moment he was jealous of the cub and then wondered what it would be like to have his babe nursing at her breast. He shook the ridiculous thought from his head. "I did not feel any signs of teeth yet. A week..maybe two…" his voice trailed off and he looked away.

She studied his profile. "Are you pouting?"

He swung his head around his eyes narrowing on her. "I don't pout."

She placed a finger in the cub's mouth and broke the seal before moving him to her other arm. He latched onto the new breast eagerly. "Then what's wrong?"

He ran his hand through his hair wishing he had his hair band. "I just discovered something I wasn't aware of."

She looked at him curiously. "Will you share it with me?"

He looked at her and then down at the cub that looked to have fallen asleep, its belly rounded. "I don't like to share," he said gruffly.

She sighed, created a soft bed of cloth on the floor and laid the cub down. "You are quite the bear." She giggled. "You have shared enough with me, Ger-bear; you don't have to share more, if you don't wish to. Forget I asked."

He just blinked. He pulled her onto his lap. With her harness gone, the tips of her breasts grazed the hairs on his chest. His hands skimmed down her back. "I meant I don't like to share you," he growled before he claimed her lips.

She'd had no intension of bedding him tonight. But the infernal man had a way of setting her body on fire with a glance and if he was naked…if he touched her…she was lost. She gave him a hard push and he fell back onto the bed. Her pants melted away and she fell into his arms.

They took advantage of their last secluded night together. She took the cub outside once during the night, fed him and tucked him back into bed. Come morning, after she took the cub out again and fed him, she packed up the horses and then sparred with him. He did not give her quarter like Davor did. He made her work each parry and counterattack. And when they dropped their swords for some melee practice, he gave her another workout. Unlike Davor he did fight back. He pulled his strikes, but he otherwise did not hold back.

He had to admit he was impressed by her speed and agility; more often than not she just wasn't there. She'd put him on the defensive more than once. She didn't fight like a brawler, she fought like the wind. She was everywhere and nowhere. He wasn't sure how he ended up on his back, but he was up in a blink. His palm shot out and connected with her shoulder, she spun into the hit, and he narrowly dodged a flying kick to his head. He grabbed her ankle and yanked her to him. His hand caught her back and his other released her ankle to skim up her leg and grip her ass. He rocked her against his arousal as his mouth plundered hers. Their armor melted to skin and he growled as he sank into her tight heat, her legs locked around his waist.

It was primal, hard..but it was what they needed. In the aftermath they clung to each other until their heartbeats slowed. Her legs slid down his and with a last brush of lips she stepped away. Fully armored she created a cloth sling around her neck and slipped the cub into it.

He watched the horses trot up after she whistled and was surprised to see the stallion kneel down for her to mount. He swung up onto Roach's back and gave her neck a pat. "Angel, can you do something with my hair?" He saw her grin and toss something to him. He caught it and saw the band he'd thought was lost. He pulled the front of his hair back and tightened the leather around it. He winked at her and moved out.

"What do you remember about Kaer Morhen?" she asked.

"Only pieces like disjointed pictures. Most of my training, a face or two, but I don't feel anything. It is like looking at someone else's memories."

She could hear the frustration in his voice. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more than unbind the memories. Maybe in time…" her words fell off. Platitudes. "Is there anything you remember that makes you feel anything?"

"You," he said gruffly without looking at her.

She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but knew that if he wanted to tell her more he would have. "I'm sorry."

"Why do you keep saying that?" he asked glancing over at her. It wasn't like she was the one that gave him amnesia and left him in a field with nothing but the shirt on his back.

"Guilty complex?" she asked with a weak grin. "I don't know, Ger. I just – I guess I want to make everything right and I don't know how."

She wanted to make everything right for him? He couldn't remember, but somehow he didn't think anyone had ever said those words to him before. He didn't like what the thought made his heart feel. He cleared his throat. "Nothing is ever that easy, but thank you."

Come early afternoon the cub was becoming too active. She slowed her horse to a walk and then stopped. "Geralt!" When he slowed his horse and turned around she dismounted. "Boo needs to potty. Did you want us to take a break? You could hunt if you need to." She plucked the cub from the sling and carried him over to the shade of a tree and set him down well away from the horses.

He pulled up next to Titan and dismounted, joining her under the tree. "I'd rather push on while we still have light." He grinned. "Boo?"

She flushed watching the cub fall all over his feet. "He's been playing peek-a-boo with me in the sling ever since he woke up."

His gaze dropped lower and he noticed she was wearing the harness. He could see the tips of her nipples peeking out from within the light covering that molded to her breasts. A breath caught in his throat. His arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her up against him. "Boo's asleep," he murmured.

His husky voice sent shivers down her spine and the heat that simmered in his eyes melted her. Why was she so weak when it came to him?

When a blanket appeared beneath them and their armor melted away he lowered her to the ground, drank the sweet silk from her breasts and made love to her like a desperate man. And when the need to bite overcame him he gave into it without a thought. Her sweet and energy giving life blood flowed into him. The sting of her answering bite made him shudder with raw need. They drew from each other as they hurtled over the precipice. Their bodies were still cooling when her words filtered through to him. His senses came instantly alert. She was right. Someone was coming. He lurched to his feet placing his body between her and whoever was coming.

She flashed their armor on and she settled Boo back into the sling. They mounted and Geralt grabbed hold of Titan's reins, making sure to keep his mount between the danger and her. One of the horses split off from the group and came galloping towards them. He drew his sword from its sheath.

Davor pulled up when he saw the sword come out. "Geralt, why are you pulling a sword on me?"

"I don't know you," he growled.

Davor looked from Geralt to Angel. "Angel?"

"It's okay, Ger. This is Davor, the friend I told you about that went to the keep to get help?"

"Well, I can see you are hardly in need of a litter, son, but put your sword away before you hurt yourself, you're among friends," Vesemir told him. He gaze slid to the golden haired beauty on the large golden stallion. He could indeed feel the power that surrounded her. Interesting. "And you must be Angel, our newest Wolf. I am Vesemir, this is Eskel and the sorceress is Triss. But it appears Geralt is not in need of any additional healing, since he intended to take us all on."

Triss' eyes narrowed on the woman. Her beauty was almost ethereal and the power that came off of her nearly tangible, yet she could sense no magic. What was she? She looked from Angel to Geralt. It was obvious he had sought to protect her, but why?

"It is good to meet you all. Geralt is suffering from amnesia. I healed him, released what memories I could, but I'm afraid time will have to see to the rest," she explained.

Geralt sheathed his sword and swung his head around to look at her. "I'm right here," he said pointing out the obvious.

"Yes, Ger-bear, you most certainly are and I might point out that you make a better door than a window," she teased.

Eskel snorted. "Ger-Bear..Lambert's going to have a field day with that." He also couldn't help but note that Vesemir was having a hard time biting back a grin.

"Shut up!" Geralt growled at the man.

Eskel cocked a brow. So, it would appear you had to be a beautiful golden maid to get away with calling him Ger-bear. But the woman was right, Geralt had been growling like a bear for years. Amnesia. He couldn't begin to understand what it was like to forget all your friends..your enemies…your life.

Once Vesemir got himself under control he tossed Geralt a pouch of food. "Davor said you would be in need of food. Do you two want to ride in the wagon on the way back so you can eat?"

"I'd rather my teeth didn't rattle out of my skull," he said drolly.

Vesemir's horse was pulling the wagon. When the others gave him some room he turned the wagon around and led the group back in the direction of the keep.

"Is it really that bad?" she asked curiously.

"Worse," he said with a shudder.

Davor dropped back and moved Spook in next to Titan. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"It's been an exhausting few days. I imagine I will crawl into bed and sleep for days to make up for it," she admitted.

Geralt grinned. It had indeed been an exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable last few days.

"Did he…" Davor began.

"Did he what?" Geralt asked coldly, his gaze locking onto the other man.

"I wasn't talking to you, Geralt," Davor said evenly.

"You were talking about me and you didn't answer my question." He wasn't sure why Davor was rubbing him the wrong way.

"Did he behave?" Davor asked turning his gaze to meet Angel's.

Triss frowned. The Geralt she knew would never behave.

"Oh, Davor…he gave me a kitten!" Syntl said with a grin. She then went on to talk about Boo, about tossing Geralt onto his back and many other useless pieces of trivia.

Geralt grunted. He wondered if Davor would realize just how neatly she'd skirted his question.

Triss, however, saw the diversion for what it was and wondered if Geralt had had his way with the woman. Of course he did, this was Geralt after all and he had a way with women. She had to admit she was intrigued about his amnesia. He hadn't greeted her, which stood to reason that he did not remember her. That was unfortunate after all they'd been through together. "Geralt, you don't remember me?"

He looked over at the woman on the bay mare. Red hair, blue eyes, freckles; pretty…but he couldn't place her face. He did get the feeling that they'd known each other though. "No. But I do get a sense that you were an important part of my life." He just didn't know how. Had he bedded her? Even if he had, that would not have made her important. It had to be something else.

At first she was hurt to have her suspicions proven correct. But his not remembering…it could prove advantageous. She'd been in love with him for years. Perhaps she could get him to see her in a new light. If he could come to love her before he regained his memory…maybe that love would be strong enough to withstand Yennefer. She wasn't proud of the directions her thoughts had taken her, Yennefer was her friend, but her heart cried out for something that had always been out of reach and it was probably the only chance she'd ever have. "Yes," she agreed and smiled softly. "We were important to each other. Your memory should come back. Just give it time. You'll remember us."

Geralt frowned. What had she meant by _us_? Was she meaning it in the general sense or was she implying they were together? A couple? He felt no true feelings when he looked at her only a sense of her being in his life. And if she was meaning they were a couple, why would he be with a sorceress? Sorceresses were deceitful. You never saw their true face, they used magic to make themselves look beautiful and they always had an ulterior motive. They were wrapped in secrecy and pretty lies. Not like Angel. There was no sense of deceit with her. In fact he doubted he'd ever met anyone more open and honest about whom they were. She had no ties here, thus no hidden agenda. He blinked when he realized he'd been staring at the woman who seemed to have taken over his thoughts. She was still taking quietly with Davor. He cleared his throat and looked away.

Triss frowned when Geralt's attention returned to Angel. Angel…what a ridiculous name. It was obvious the new wolf, Davor, was in love with Angel. He didn't bother to hide it all that well..or he couldn't. It was in his eyes every time he looked at her or talked about her. He was far more classically handsome than Geralt. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. The couple had traveled together for some time. Perhaps Angel was in love with him too.

Vesemir grinned when they returned to the keep. There were two things he'd noticed. All the walls of the keep had been repaired, something he'd been asking the boys to do for ages and the hunt had been a success. Three deer hides were on racks in the process of being tanned. With this many mouths to feed, they'd need the meat. He unhooked his grey mare from the wagon and led her to the stable. He'd always been teased that he preferred the grey mare because she matched his hair. It would appear that Geralt would now be the butt of the same jokes. The white wolf atop a white steed. He sensed there was a story behind the white mare. He unsaddled his mare and began to brush her out.

Davor approached Titan. "Will you allow me to remove the saddle?" The stallion tossed his head and shook it. "Titan, please.." The stallion snorted and stamped a hoof. He inclined his head to the stallion in acknowledgement and assisted Triss with her bay. The saddle bags on the bay were empty, so he laid it over the top of the saddle on the stand. With no other brush in sight he handed her his own brush with a wink and returned to his own gelding to see to his needs.

Titan had nothing against his Angel's travel companion, he could still scent her on him, but his Angel had chosen another for her mate. And his touch is the only other he would tolerate.

"Titan, Davor only wanted to help, that was unkind," she scolded softly as she stroked his soft muzzle. The stallion shook his head then nodded in the direction of Geralt, who was infused with Angel's scent.

Geralt had to admit he was intrigued with what he'd just witnessed. Angel was unbuckling the cinch as he approached them. He tossed her saddle bags over his shoulder and heaved the saddle from the stallion's back and set it down on a wooden stand. He patted the stallion's rump when he returned and handed her the brush and pick from her saddle bags.

As Geralt was brushing out his own mare he couldn't help but notice the long thin scar that travelled down the mare's neck and shoulder. It looked old and had nearly faded. "What is your story," he asked as he drew a finger along the thin line of pink skin. Her skin rippled. It was obviously unpleasant for her. "It would appear we are both battle scarred," he said with a pat and resumed brushing her out.

Davor returned to Triss after he'd examined and cleaned Spook's hooves. He cleaned the bays hooves and looked at the red haired sorceress. "Would you like me to finish brushing her out, my lady?"

She looked over at the handsome witcher. His bearing and his words were that of an educated gentleman…a nobleman and he was treating her like a lady. Not something she was used to. "Triss is fine," she said with a grin. "Since it's your brush, I can hardly refuse." He took the brush and began brushing out the mare. "What is your story? How did someone like you become a witcher?"

Davor's brows rose. "Someone like me? By that do you mean handsome? Charming?" he teased.

Triss laughed. No doubt the man left a trail of broken hearts. "I meant a nobleman."

He shook his head. "Alas, my charms availed me naught, the lady speaks only of my nobility." At her snort he grinned. "I was an unexpected child, given to the Griffin School by the Law of Surprise."

She crossed her arms under her breasts. "That does explain a lot." She paused a moment. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

His hand stilled a moment and he continued brushing until the mare's coat gleamed. "Of course not, but she does deserve to have a silky clean coat."

"Aren't you full of wit," she said unable to keep the smile from her lips.

"One of my many charms, my lady Triss," he said as he moved to the mare's other side.

"Modesty too, I see." And still he'd called her my lady.

He ignored her comment for a moment, but manners would not allow him to be silent. "Verily, I am modest," he admitted.

"Is that why you didn't answer my question?" she prompted.

He leaned against the mare and rested his arms on her back as his gaze locked onto the blue eyes of the sorceress. "Why do you care, my lady Triss? Why does what I feel mean ought to you?"

She looked into his witcher eyes and bit her lip. If what she suspected was true they might be able to work together and both get what they want. "Because I am in love with Geralt. I've seen the way you look at her; it's obvious you're in love with her. And I know I can make him happy; I just need the time for him to realize that." A sigh slipped from her lips. "But I've also seen the way he looks at her. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I fear we will both lose what we want if we aren't careful."

Was she suggesting they work together to keep Angel and Geralt apart? "What are you suggesting, my lady Triss?" he asked evenly.

Time to lay her cards on the table. "Court her, seduce her, be subtle but keep her busy and I'll do the same with Geralt. I want him, but only if he loves me. But if he's looking at her, he's not seeing me. I just need a bit of time and hope that he will come to feel for me as I feel for him," she said quietly.

He clenched his jaw but forced himself to remain calm. "You are correct that she has my heart and I will continue to court her until such a time as she falls in love with me or makes it clear her heart lies elsewhere. But I have no intension of seducing her. I love her too much to play games."

So much for all was fair in love and war. "And if you lose her?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and released a slow breath. "Then I will accept that and move on. But I will always be there if she changes her mind."

That was brutally honest. "You really are too good to be true. What if you fall in love with another? Would you leave them if Angel changed her mind?"

Why did any of this even matter to her? Was she testing him for some reason or just infernally nosey? "If someone else won my heart, then I would comfort Angel as a friend and nothing more. My love is not fickle. Is there ought else you wish to know, my lady Triss?"

She felt the sting in her cheeks. She knew she had been pushing him and that his feelings were not her business. "I'm sorry, Davor, forgive me. What I asked …it was not my business. I've just never met a man like you before."

He inclined his head to her. "Then consider it forgotten. Though I must inquire. What did you mean by a man like me? A witcher of noble birth?"

She laughed. "Most noblemen are pigs." Her hand flew to her mouth. "No offence meant."

A smile tugged at his lips. "None taken, my lady. I must confess I tend to agree."

Ever since she first saw him something about him had looked familiar, but she couldn't place it until now. His long, black hair was what threw her off and its length tended to hide the side of his face…that and the fact that he was supposed to have died as a young boy. But if she remembered correctly his mother had black hair and blue eyes. She wondered if his eyes were blue or amber prior to the mutation. "I was referring to warm and generous heart, not your noble birth." She ran her fingers through her dark mahogany hair and her blueeyes sparkled with mischief. "In fact, I think you are far better looking than your father, Griffin."

Stunned he pulled back from the mare and moved on to his gelding, brushing his black coat until it shined. "I'm sorry, my lady, but my sire's name was not Griffin."

He was cagey. "That is quite true. Your sire's name is Foltest and you are his first born, Griffin, named after a great-grandfather he loved, a boy that supposedly died in his youth, leaving Adda as heir to Temeria."

He stilled for a moment and then began brushing once more. "I am Davor, formerly of the Griffin School, my lady."

She released a soft breath a small grin played on her lips. "At first I thought you were a Duke's son. You looked so familiar, but I could not place it. Your mother's black hair is what threw me off. You are the Duke of Chatleigh, Prince of Temeria and a witcher. What is intriguing is that even now you cannot bring yourself to lie. You have more honor in your little finger than most Royals are even capable of. If there were more monarchs like you there'd be less civil war, less strife."

He slipped around the back of his gelding and began brushing the other side. "I am not a monarch, my lady. I never will be. No freak…no witcher will ever be put on any throne. Who Griffin was died a long time ago. I am Davor, a man that does not even rule his own destiny." What he didn't say is that was that his father had left him the title Duke of Chatleigh. The Duke did not die with the Prince. He had trusted advisors that served his lands while he was away.

The man truly was too honorable. Even faced with having his biggest secret, one he buried a long time ago, revealed he did not lie. What would it be like to have an honorable ruler? She imagined he'd focus on his own lands, making sure his people and country thrive, that his borders were well defended and not focus on invading other lands to take their wealth. It would truly be a novel experience. It was too bad what befell him, that he was forced to become a witcher. A great monarch was lost forever when that happened. "How did you become an unexpected child?"

He sighed. There was no point in keeping silent anymore. At this point he could only hope she kept the knowledge to herself. "My father was very young when he impregnated my mother. She was a visiting dignitary and a few years older. She wintered at the palace and when he discovered her round with his child he would not let her leave until the babe was born. After my birth, I was sequestered deep within the castle, all but hidden away, the protected and pampered heir. The prince couldn't know if he would be able to have more children and I was a son, which made me even more valuable. Whenever he left I was escorted, under heavy guard and in the dark of night, to my mother. There came a time when my mother was being courted by another and she did not want him to know of my presence, so I was sent back to the castle. As misfortune often decrees, he returned home with a witcher who had saved his life. I don't know which Law of Surprise was invoked, what you find at home and don't expect or the first thing to greet you, as either would have worked in my case. I slipped away from my guards to run and meet my returning father. I could not understand why he fell to his knees and cried out in anguish when he saw me. It was probably the most emotion I'd ever seen him display and it was frightening to behold. That was the last day I ever saw my parents. It wasn't until later than I'd learned I had been declared dead that day. My father had the right of it," he said with a shrug, "for the heir did die that day."

She quickly wiped away the tears that slipped down her cheeks. It was a heartbreaking story, but the consequences and tragedy of what was lost was far more painful.

He had to admit he was surprised by her tears. He didn't think sorceresses had a heart. "You needn't cry for me, my lady. It happened far too long ago to be of any import."

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She had hoped…it didn't really matter what she hoped, he obviously saw them despite her attempts to hide them. "Yes, I feel for the boy that lost everything. I feel for you. But the tragedy far exceeds that. The kingdom…the whole of the North lost a great future king that day and I fear it is a loss is one they will not recover from."

He slipped the brush back into the saddle bag and patted Spook on the rump as he left the stall. "I mean no offense, my lady, but it cannot be known as to whether I'd have made a good king or not and the point is but a moot one. Now," he said extending the crook of his arm to her, "shall we join the others before they think something untoward?" he teased with an easy grin.

He had not even lowered himself to ask her to remain quiet about what she'd learned. If word got out he would face it with honor as he faced everything. He was a remarkable man. She slipped her arm through his and for just a moment she felt like a lady as he escorted her into the keep.

Vesemir was praising Lambert and Leo when they arrived. "You two have surpassed all of my expectations. Taking down three.." he gaze flew to Angel, "Not only did you have a successful hunt but to repair the keep.."

Leo looked at Lambert with puzzlement. The man merely shrugged. "What repairs are you talking about, Vesemir? We returned not long before you did."

"Why the –" his gaze slid back to Angel whose cheeks were bright red. He had been told her power was great, that she could create or kill with a thought. But hearing about it seeing it were two very different beasts. "I see. It appears the keep's restoration lies at the feet of another." He moved to stand in front of Angel. "I've been after the boys for years to what you did without a thought." He nodded to her in thanks and glanced down at her Griffin medallion. "Normally a witcher earns his medallion after completing his training but before he faces the Trials. It can be months or even years between the two. You have already survived what many do not. You will be tested and trained like anyone else, but you have passed your Trials and earned the right to wear the medallion." He held out his hand for her Griffin medallion.

She leaned towards him and whispered. "Not…" she sighed, pointed to the medallion and shook her head; she didn't know the words for it. She took Geralt's arm to get his attention. "Can you tell him it's not real, it's a copy?"

Before Geralt could say anything Davor stepped up next to her and released Triss' arm. "The Griffin medallion is not genuine. We escaped before she could be given one, but she needed to look the part so as not to arise suspicion when we fled."

Vesemir nodded his understanding. He couldn't help but smile at the flustered, beautiful woman. "It doesn't matter, child. It is the symbolism of the gesture." He held out his hand once more.

The men were stunned by Vesemir's softly spoken words. It appeared the old man had a soft spot for the new witcher. Though not a one of them doubted her training would be any easier. Soft spot or not, he'd want her fully prepared.

She removed the medallion and placed it on his palm. She folded his fingers over the top of it. "My love will be yous..yours."

Geralt cleared his throat trying not to laugh when the old man turned red with embarrassment. "Loyalty, you mean loyalty."

She flushed. "I mean loyalty. My loyalty will be yours."

He patted her hand. "Thank you, child. You got an old man's hopes up for a moment," he teased as he placed the wolf medallion around her neck. "If only I were a few years younger." He cleared his throat. "Welcome to your new home, the Wolf School."

The men were stunned. This was a side of the old man that they'd never seen before. And was that a sparkle in his eye? Ciri was the only other girl to bring about that sparkle, but the sexual innuendos were completely new to them.

Lambert snorted. "A few centuries younger maybe."

Syntl turned her attention to the sarcastic witcher. "It is the heart and soul that matter when it comes to love not age."

Lambert blinked. "Truly beautiful, but for all I know you just told me to go kiss a frog's arse."

"Shut up, Lambert," Eskel scolded with a frown.

Syntl couldn't help it, she laughed. "I did not but ha-ha," she said making a laugh sound.

"Ha-Ha? Funny?" Lambert asked.

She grinned. "Yes. Funny. You are funny."

"Finally some appreciation," Lambert said with a snort.

She pointed to Lambert. "You teach me talk?"

Davor sighed. "What she means is will you teach her more of our language? I can no longer do so, as she has taught me the tongue of her people and I no longer respond to her in our language, thus she's been unable to learn more from me."

Lambert cocked a brow. "That doesn't make sense. Just talk to her."

"It doesn't work like that. I respond to a question in the language that asks it. She needs you to learn more of our language, so please have a care what you teach her," Davor said pointedly.

A slow grin spread across Lambert's face. "There is much I would be willing to teach a beautiful woman."

Davor's eyes narrowed. "Unless you intend to marry her, you will not be teaching her what you have in mind!"

That, Lambert had not been expecting. "A virgin in a den whoreson wolves…oh, the winter just became a lot more interesting."

"Shut up!" Geralt growled. "Consider her under my protection. If any of you touches her without her consent, you'll answer to me," he bit out.

"And to me," Davor said with a frown. Not liking what he heard in the white wolf's tone.

Triss laughed as Vesemir and Eskel added their own 'and me' to the chorus. If the girl was still a virgin, which she highly doubted, likely she would not survive the winter with her innocence intact, at least not with this lot. "Interesting indeed," she agreed.

Eskel smiled at the blushing Angel. "I will help you learn our language."

"Thank you," Syntl said and inclined her head to him.

"Now that the nonsense is out of the way," Vesemir said shooting a glare to Lambert, "Can you tell me why you chose to repair the keep?" At her crestfallen look he nodded. "I understand. You do not know the words."

She turned to Davor. "Tell him I want to give him the tongue of my people so that we may talk."

Davor wasn't thrilled with it, but he had known all along that it would need to happen. Just as he understood why she had to give it Geralt.

"No," Geralt said a bit more loudly than he'd intended. "I meant why? Don't you need people to teach you our language?"

"She has Eskel, Lambert and Triss to help her learn," Davor pointed out. "There is no choice, Geralt. Vesemir is the most knowledgeable witcher here; they need to be able to communicate without the complications of a language barrier."

"What are you two talking about?" Vesemir asked.

"Angel would like to give you the tongue of her people so that you can communicate properly," Davor explained.

"The tongue of…How does she give a language to someone? If she can give a language can't she just take ours from us?" Vesemir asked trying to understand.

Davor shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. From what I understand a language must be given and we lack the ability to give it, so she must learn it. As to how she does it, all I can say is she will first give you the memory of the language," he said pointing to his head. "And then she will…umm..transfer the muscle memory to you so that you can use it. That – well it involves a kiss."

Vesemir blinked then his gaze slid to Angel. He inclined his head at her nod. He was fascinated by the ability to transfer a language to another and to kiss a beautiful woman? That was hardly a hardship. "Set out dinner while I show Angel and Davor to their rooms." He turned to Geralt. "I will need to show you as well?" he asked.

"Yes," Geralt admitted.

"Then follow me," Vesemir said. He led them through the kitchen and up the stairs built along the right side of the keep's wall. He opened the door at the top of the stairs. "To the right at the end is my room." He turned left from the door way until he came to two doors, one on either side of the hall. "To the left is the library and to the right.. I thought it might be a good room for Angel because Triss will need to go through this room to get to hers."

"I will take this room," Davor stated when he noticed there was no hearth. "Angel has a higher body temperature than ours; she feels the bite of cold more keenly than we do."

"Davor, there's no need.."

"Angel, there is no reason for you to suffer from the cold needlessly," he said quietly.

She knew it was pointless to argue with him, his chivalristic code would let him do no less. "Why can Triss only enter from this room?" That didn't exactly sound like it was well thought out when the keep was designed.

Vesemir only blinked.

"Sorry, I forgot." She stepped up to the older man. "Want to talk?" At his nod she placed her fingertips at his temple to give him the memory of her language. Her hand slipped around to the back of his neck as she brought her lips to his.

Davor turned around. He did not want to see Angel kissing him.

Geralt looked at Davor and then back to Angel and Vesemir. When he saw Vesemir's arms come around her waist he wanted nothing more than to knock the old man on his ass. He grunted and turned around.

With the transfer complete she stepped back. "Can you understand me now?"

"Yes," Vesemir said, nearly squeaking. He cleared his throat. "I can't think of a better way to learn a language." He chuckled when the men groaned. "Now what did you ask me before?"

"I asked why Triss could only enter her room through this one."

"As you've noticed, the keep has fallen into disrepair. The stairs accessing her room are no longer usable," Vesemir admitted.

Syntl walked down the stairs to view the main stairwall. The stairway leading up looked fine, but the wall and the stairs leading down were indeed damaged. She peered down over the edge of the stairs and felt a hand grip her arm. She glanced up and smiled at Geralt. "I will try not to fall, but thank you. I was looking for the original stone work. I think the pieces I'm seeing down there are the correct ones."

"You can see them well enough to know that?" Geralt asked in surprise. He knew she had good vision, but that he would have thought was impossible.

"I – yes." She didn't know why she was embarrassed but she was. With a wave of her hand the pieces appeared in the stairwell, the cracks disappearing. She stepped down the stairs and looked at the massive whole in the wall. She leaned out the opening and looked down. Yes. The pieces were shattered, but it was easier energy-wise using material already there than creating it from scratch. With another wave of her hand she repaired the wall and turned to go back up the stairs.

Vesemir was stunned. He knew she had repaired the outer walls, but to actually see it happen. "Angel, the keep is falling down around our ears. I don't expect you to fix everything."

She lightly patted Vesemir's cheek as she carefully passed him on the stairwell. "I'll likely be here several months. I can at least take care of the living areas." Though likely she'd do far more. This place looked to be grand once and the state it was in broke her heart. She made a door and leaned it against the wall. "Sorry, Davor. I don't know how to make or install hinges. But maybe someone can help you with that."

She walked over to the window. The room was already cold. She couldn't imagine having a winter breeze blow through. "Did something used to cover the openings? I could cover it, but it would block out the light."

"Used to be glass, but skins are used now when the winter sets in," Vesemir told her.

"Glass is natural, so I could possibly create it, but I would need to learn it first. But…I might also be able to make a fireplace here. Slats of wood down the windows as a flue. Maybe.." she flushed. "My flues are not the best." With a grin there was a new bed, a desk and chair, a table set, a couch and a polished floor.

Vesemir took a quick step back. "I'm not going to get used to that," he mumbled. "What is that?" he asked pointing to the long, soft looking bench thing.

Syntl laughed. "It's a couch. You can sit on it or sleep on it, preferably without armor or weapons." Boo started squirming and she sighed. "Davor, can you please take Boo outside to potty?"

"Boo? Who or what is boo?"

She'd been with him so long she'd forgotten he wasn't with her when she got Boo. "Boo is a kitten Geralt gave me. Its mother and siblings were killed by a snake. So, he's my baby now." She pulled the black cub from the sling across her chest and cradled him in her arms.

"That is not a kitten," Vesemir said. "He'll be trying to eat the horses in a few months."

She grinned and rubbed her face against his soft fur. "No he won't."

Vesemir cocked his head. "How do you intend to stop him?"

Davor chuckled. "Why she will simply ask him not to and he won't. I watched her tame a stallion with but a few words. He follows her around like a puppy now. The _kitten_ will not be a problem." He smiled at Angel and took the cub from her arms. "I'll take him outside to stretch his legs and meet you all downstairs."

They exited the room and turned right. "About your room, Geralt…it does not look the same as when you were last here," Vesemir warned. He rubbed the back of his neck as he led them into the next room on the right.

Syntl froze when she stepped into the room. Rats scurried about on the floor. At least what floor there was left. A large crack spanned the length of the room, the far wall by the window and the floor beneath it had fallen away. With a shudder she whisked the rats to the forest where she and Davor had killed the wolves. They had their place in the food chain, not the keep. She filled in the large crack and then approached the gaping hole. An arm slipped around her waist when she leaned over the edge to take a look at the rubble below. "I need to get closer."

When she lowered herself onto her hands and knees he dropped down behind and braced himself as her head peaked over the edge. Their position did not go unnoticed. He could not stop his body from reacting to being pressed up against her backside.

She straightened and leaned back against him for a moment. She could feel his hard length and the splay of his hand against her belly. Since her hair had fallen over her right shoulder she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck followed by the sting of his bite. She stiffened as his fingers curled into her belly to hold her to him. A groan slipped from her lips and her hand flew to cover her mouth. Her fangs had descended on their own.

"Are you okay?" Vesemir asked with concern. No doubt she'd expended a lot of energy making the repairs she'd made. But he suspected it was more than that.

"Vertigo…Feeling a bit of vertigo, I'll be fine in a moment," she assured him. Her hand that was not facing Vesemir fell back to grip his thigh as he drew from her.

He pulled slowly back as realization dawned on him. What he'd done…where they were…the fact that they were not alone. He wasn't sure why he was so affected by her but it was getting harder to control and that was concerning.

Vesemir bit back a grin. Vertigo my ass. The sexual tension was thick in the air. He might be old, but he wasn't blind or dead. Something was definitely going on between these two. He welcomed Angel over Yen any day, but with two stallions circling the same mare…the fallout could be bloody.

"Forgive me," he breathed against her ear. The words felt foreign, they were not words he said. Ever. But he'd crossed a line and he owed them to her. "Can you stand?" he asked louder. At her 'yes' he stood and helped her up.

She took in a steadying breath, repaired the room, shined the floor and added some furniture. She learned that Eskel's room was right next to Geralt's, connected via a door. She peeked into his room, repaired and cleaned it, but didn't touch the furnishings. If he wanted her to she would, but she wouldn't presume.

Vesemir led them out of the room and continued to the right. She stopped and let out a wavering breath. The hall outside of Geralt's room was badly decayed. Both the room and the hall needed major repairs. But she could also feel the drain this was taking on her. Geralt latched onto her as she lowered herself to take a look at the rubble below. With a sigh she repaired the crack and the gaping hole. It looked like most of the rubble from the ceiling was still lying around in the hall. She would repair that later after she ate and regained some strength. At least she had the whole of winter to deal with the rest of the keep.

"Lambert and Leo have rooms in the other wing. Geralt go belowstairs and have the men haul their…" he gaze slid to Angel, "backsides up here to clear out the room Angel will use."

Geralt nodded and left to do as he was asked.

"Vesemir, please…you do not have to go to any trouble for me," she insisted.

Vesemir shook his head in wonder. "After all that you have done for the keep, do you really think clearing out one room is too much to ask of us?"

"I – but I didn't have to lift a finger to help you…it was no trouble," she assured him.

"Don't take me for an old fool, child," he rebuked her gently. "I can see the toll it has taken on you."

"Fair enough," she said. "Where will you put whatever is in the room you are assigning to me?"

"This way," he said leading her to the end of the hall. "This used to be our armory."

Her mouth fell open when she saw the huge cauldrons and the open slots on the floor next to them. "Was that used for defense?" she asked pointing to the cauldrons.

Vesemir grinned. "Hot oil, hot water…even used hot horse droppings once."

She shuddered. "Eew. I bet that was fun to clean up afterwards."

"No, no it wasn't," Vesemir said with a chuckle.

She eyed the large, round stone, the hole in the wall and the cauldron that had been knocked off its base. She flashed the large stone into a lake she had passed recently, laid the massive beams on the floor, repaired the hole and settled the cauldron back into its base, with a final wave she cleaned the room, its flooring and pillars gleamed. She dropped to her knees and hung her head, her breathing harsh as her body trembled.

Vesemir lowered himself to his knees and put a supporting arm around her. "You pushed yourself too far," he scolded gruffly.

She leaned into him as her world began to spin. She fought the darkness that threatened to consume her. She _had_ pushed herself too hard. She'd never experienced complete exhaustion before, she hadn't known the signs her body would give her. Now she did. "I'm stubborn that waaay…" the last word came out in a sigh as her vision went dark.

Vesemir scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the room that would be hers and lowered them both in front of the fire. She felt like ice in his arms. He heard the stomping of running feet and wondered how they knew.

On the way back up the stairs Geralt froze. He hadn't realized he felt Angel within him until there was nothing there but an empty void. He glanced at Davor and saw the unease, but he said nothing as he dashed up the winding staircase.

"Why are we running?" Lambert asked.

"Angel…something has happened…" Davor replied as he clutched the cub tightly to him. It felt like she was gone and the emptiness left a gnawing fear in its place.

Not knowing where she was, Geralt glanced into each room they passed. He ignored the whistle and the words of wonder from the others who were just now seeing the splendor Kaer Morhen could be. He released a harsh breath when he found her in Vesemir's arms in front of a fire. He dropped down to his knees, fighting the urge to pull her from the old man's arms. "What happened?"

Vesemir looked over at the man next to him. He saw something in the man's eyes just below the surface. Something he'd only ever seen twice in them. With Yennefer and with Ciri. But there was something there he couldn't place, something different…almost primal. He sighed when the shutters fell and he could no longer see anything in the man's eyes. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to protect her, but at least his heart could rest easy now. Geralt was in love with her. But how to make him see it? "Exhaustion, son." His gaze moved to Davor, love and worry shined bright in his eyes. Davor would be good for Angel, hell he'd be good for any woman that could earn his devotion. But unfortunate as it was for Davor, Angel's heart lie elsewhere. That was all too obvious by the sexual tension he'd felt earlier.

"Have you seen what she's done for Kaer Morhen?" His throat tightened with emotion ad he swallowed hard. She was breathing life into a desiccated corpse. He was the only witcher left alive that knew the splendor of Kaer Morhen, she'd never been more than a pile of rotting rubble to the others. But she was a part of him, in his bones and to see her live once more…

"You didn't stop her?" Geralt asked gruffly.

Vesemir blinked. "Have you ever tried to stop the wind? Geralt, I didn't know she was hurting herself, she hid it well…until it was too late," he admitted. "I know the signs now, it will not happen again."

Triss placed a hand on Geralt's shoulder. "I can try to revive her. If she's depleted her energy, she needs to eat." Energy depletion was something she knew well.

"It won't help, Triss," Davor said quietly. "Magic has no effect on her." A slow smile spread on his lips. "But tawny owl and swallow might, at least to some degree. It will probably require more than normal amounts. Do we have any here?"

"Not much," Vesemir admitted. "But there should still be some viable plants around the keep; best to use those rather than touch our dried stores."

Triss smiled. That she could help with. She may not have the woman's extraordinary powers, but she didn't want to be considered useless to the keep now. "I can make the potions."

Vesemir nodded. "Fine. Triss, Davor…collect the ingredients and make the potions. The rest of you clear out this room. It will be Angel's for now. Move everything to the old armory down the hall."

Davor placed the cub next to Vesemir and rose to do as he was bid. It felt good to have something to do and he'd rather hunt herbs for the potions that would help her than move furniture. He felt like he was helping her more directly this way. He followed Triss out the door.

"I can't believe she did all this. I don't even recognize the place. I wonder if she can do my room next?" Lambert said with a grin. The smile slipped into a frown when he was cuffed. He rubbed the back of his head. "That wasn't necessary."

"Yes it was," Eskel growled. "You saw what it did to her!"

"Easy for you to say, you aren't sharing your room with rats anymore," Lambert grumbled as he hefted the left side of a bookshelf.

"Shut up, Lambert," Geralt warned as he lifted a trunk.

Vesemir turned out the men's banter and watched as the cub crawled up onto Angel's belly. It began to cry pitifully. He sucked in a breath in surprise as her armor faded to display large, rounded breasts. Material started to form over her breasts and faded. She did not have the strength to cover them. But why reveal them? Not that he minded the view. That was when he saw milk begin to drip from the tight peaks of her breasts. The cub followed the scent and began to nurse, its paws kneading the full, white globes. He hadn't been expecting that, but it stood to reason a cub so young needed milk. He grabbed a skin laying to his right and pulled it up over the cub and her breasts to offer her what modesty he could.

The men chose to leave an armoire and a desk in the room, she would be needing them. When Vesemir released them they returned downstairs. Leo went to find Triss and Davor to offer what help he could. Geralt lowered himself next to Vesemir. He saw the fur draped across her. "She's feeding the cub?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I think its cries reached her somehow, but not enough to revive her."

Geralt lifted the fur and let out a ragged breath. The cub was curled up on her belly asleep, but her breasts were bare. "The harness…"

"Harness? So that is what…" Vesemir shook his head. "Something started to materialize and then faded away. She didn't have the strength to create it." His gaze hardened on Geralt. "Lower the fur, Geralt. Now."

Geralt sighed and reached under the fur to take hold of the cub. He set the cub on the fur they were sitting on. "Give her to me."

"No," Vesemir stated firmly. That wasn't going to happen. He was not about to hand her over to any of the men without her permission.

"I'm going to take her to my room; she needs a bed and I'm not about lay her down on some molded piece of shit," he growled.

"No. _If_ she is ever in your bed it will be by her choice. I will take her to Triss' room. She can rest there until she is able to make a bed for herself. The bed is huge, I doubt Triss will mind, especially if it keeps her out of your bed."

"What do you mean by that?" The exasperation was clear in his tone.

He looked at the man in surprise. "Are you really that oblivious? Triss wants you in her bed and that can't happen if you are mooning over Angel."

Geralt frowned. "I'm not mooning over Angel. And that's not going to happen."

"Why not?" he asked as he studied the man next to him carefully. "She's beautiful, willing and it wouldn't be the first time you've bedded her." Granted, from what he knew it was a onetime thing and their might have even been alcohol or a potion involved.

Geralt's mouth dropped open and slammed shut. He couldn't remember bedding Triss before. But he didn't want to look too closely at why the thought did not appeal to him now. "I'm just not interested. If that changes, I'll bed her." Somehow the words sounded hollow even to himself.

When Vesemir rose he did too and held out his arms. "I'll carry her to Triss' room…and don't be unreasonable about it. Grab Boo and follow me up."

Vesemir lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms and then nodded. While he could probably carry her up the stairs without a problem, Geralt was younger and in better shape. With a sigh he let Geralt take her from his arms. He adjusted the fur when it began to slip and then he picked up the cub.

There was a familiarity about Triss' room. It was as if he'd been there before even though he did not remember it. Perhaps he _had_ bedded her before which made this more awkward than he cared to admit…Laying his new lover down in his old lover's bed. He wondered if either woman would appreciate that. He removed the fur and pulled the blanket up over her. He lowered himself next to her and brushed the soft, gold locks from her face. She was too pale, obviously drained.

Vesemir placed the cub next to her on the bed. It yawned and fell back to sleep. "Go down and let the others know where she is. They should be back soon."

"No," he said in a tone that would brook no argument.

Vesemir knew Geralt and he knew he could push him no further. "Fine, but I'm only entrusting her to your care because I know you love her."

"I do not…" Geralt grumbled, but the words died on his lips and he turned away from Vesemir. The old man was wrong, but if it got him to leave, so be it. He ignored Vesemir's chuckle as the man left the room. When they were alone he placed the thumb of one hand against her teeth and pulled her up against him. He bit into her and drew her sweet blood into mouth until her fangs descended. He pulled back and held her to his neck. He pried open her mouth with his thumb and pressed her fangs against his skin. He put pressure against her head until they pierced his skin. He shuddered, a groan of pleasure escaped him as her fangs did what they were designed to do…siphon blood.

He wasn't sure what he was doing would help her at all, but he knew her blood gave him energy and he had to hope that his blood would do the same for her. If you'd have told him a couple of weeks ago that he'd willingly let someone suck his blood, it probably would have led to violence. But the past week had changed his outlook, at least when it came to her. And while they may be bound, she was no vampire and he was no thrall. His mind was still his own.

When he felt the play of her lips and tongue against his skin his body trembled in response and he fought the hunger building within him. Her arms, though leaden, rose to embrace him.

"Vampire!" Leo cried out in alarm.

Davor slammed him up against the wall. "If you so much as touch her you will die." Each word was slow, precise and final.

Triss shivered at the cold retribution his voice promised. Now that was a side to the prince she had not known he possessed.

Davor released the young man and stepped back. "She's not a vampire. You were not here when we arrived; you did not hear her story. She is not from this place and you cannot relate her to such. Talk to Vesemir or Eskel…you too, Lambert," he said and shot a hard look at the other man before he too got any ideas. He wished he would have thought to try what Geralt had done. He clenched his jaw and forced the pain down, he'd deal with it when he was alone.

"For fuck's sake, listen to your medallion, Leo. Were she a threat, you'd know," Eskel bit out.

Though he was caught off guard by the blood taking, he'd seen far worse things in his life and it did not change the way he felt about her. "You have nothing to fear from her Leo…unless you piss her off. The rats just disappeared like they'd never been there," Vesemir said with a grin.

Triss placed a hand on Davor's back hoping to give him some comfort. She knew he was hurting because she felt it too. She wanted to hate the woman on principle, but how do you hate someone who gave so much of themselves for people she didn't even know? Maybe her selflessness alone was reason enough to hate her or her effect on Geralt. Right now she couldn't bring the hate to bear…not yet. But if she'd made him into some kind of thrall, she'd bring the whole lodge down on her head.

When her fangs retracted he pulled back to look at her. Her color was a bit better and she felt warmer. He drew his fingertips down her cheek. "Good to have you back."

She materialized her armor over her breasts only just now realizing they'd been bare. "Thank you..for everything. How did you.."

Geralt cut her off. "Later." He rose from the bed. He'd done what he could, she was awake and he would not be seen mooning over her, damned the old goat's hide. He didn't moon. When Davor was quick to take his place on the bed he folded his arms over his chest.

Davor placed the bottles on the small table by the bed, took two and handed them to her. "Please take these, Angel. The swallow is for vitality and the tawny owl is for energy," he said softly. When her mouth opened to object he placed a finger over her lips. "Please," he said simply.

She nodded and drank what he offered. There was a slight burn and then heat raced through her veins and then nothing. At least she didn't think she felt any different. She looked around the room; it was very unlike the rest of the keep. This room shined. It was clean, well taken care of, everything immaculate. "Where am I?"

Triss smiled. "My room. At least my room while I'm here." She did not care to mention who else used this room. "How are you feeling?"

Syntl looked up at the mahogany haired woman. There was something in her blue eyes, something she couldn't read. She wasn't sure she trusted the woman, but she would give her a chance. "You have the most romantically beautiful room that I've ever seen, Triss. And I'm feeling better; I heal quickly, so no need for anyone to be concerned. I'm not sure how I ended up here, but I'm sorry to intrude."

"What did she say?" she asked Davor. When he explained it to her she turned back to Angel.

Triss waved her hand in negation. "Thank you and you can stay here as long as you need. As you can see the bed is more than large enough for the both of us. It could fit four comfortably by the size of it," she said with a grin. "Besides, it would be good to have another woman in the keep. I'm usually the only one." In fact, things were getting a whole lot better. The room they were going to give Angel was practically right across from Geralt's and it was much larger. While Davor's room was right next to this tower room. "In fact, I'll be moving out of this room as soon as I can get the other fixed up….that is if you don't mind changing rooms with me?" she asked hopefully.

Syntl shook her head in confusion. "Why would you ever wish to give up this room?" She could not even imagine a more perfect room…at least for the time period.

Davor repeated what she said.

"Because the other was never offered to me," she said truthfully. "The other room is larger and I could use the space, if that is..you do not require more space?" Even if she could not get Geralt into her bed, the other room's size was appealing.

She rose from the bed and looked down at the smaller woman. "Only if you are sure. I did not come here to impose on anyone."

When Davor translated Triss took Angel's hands. "I've never been more sure. You are doing me a favor, Angel."

The woman sounded sincere. She nodded and hugged her. "Thank you." It was then that she'd caught sight of the stain glass windows. She was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. She reached out and touched the cool glass. She could feel the particles in the glass. Natural. "I can do something like this. Not the colors, but something similar." She turned to face Vesemir. "Would it be too much of an imposition to eat something?"

Vesemir was surprised that she would ask that. "This is your home, child. You do not need to ask if you can eat. Dinner is waiting below. Let us eat..the morning comes too soon for my old bones."

There was more food at the long table than she thought there would be. She was surprised the varied fruits and vegetables. Of course a keep this far away from any town had to be self sufficient. She was told witchers often returned to winter here, but obviously some had to be around for planting and harvesting. Unless outside help was hired for that. She would have plenty of time to learn everything. Davor, the ever vigilant watch dog, was quick to scrape cut up meat from his plate to hers.

Davor laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

Leo looked at her in surprise. "What…you don't like-"

Davor cut him off. "Meat, Leo. It is meat and _nothing_ more. Details are neither needed nor wanted. And no, she would prefer not to eat it, thus I make sure that she does."

"Not even married and he already has his balls chained. – Ouch!" Lambert said as he rubbed the back of his head and glared at Vesemir.

He ran a hand through his long, black hair. "Have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself?" Davor asked Lambert, though he didn't wait for a reply. "Her people do not kill for food and clothing, so she can't bear the thought of something dying for her. I'm not coddling her; I do it because I care about her health. May you feel such at least once in your life."

Dinner proceeded amidst small talk and once plates were pushed aside they raised a couple of tankards of mead before they rose to clean and put away the leftovers. Not that there was much left over. The men could pack away a surprising amount of food.

Syntl pulled a restless Boo from the sling around her neck. "Boo needs to use the privy," she said so that everyone could understand where she was going. She hadn't gotten far when a hand stopped her. She looked up in surprise to see Lambert.

"I'll go with you," he said quietly. He led her through the courtyard and out onto the grounds. He watched her set the cub down to do his business. "I wanted to apologize to you. What I said earlier, it was rude and you didn't deserve it."

"Do any?" she asked softly.

His brows drew together. Do any? Oh. "Do you mean does anyone deserve it? Yes. I hate this place, I hate witchers, I hate the people who spit on us even though we risk our lives to help them," he admitted.

She could hear the bitterness in his voice. There was indeed a lot of hate in the man. The hate had left him sour; his soul was in danger of becoming rancid. She placed a hand on his forearm. "Why hate all?"

He looked at her glowing silver eyes and released a harsh breath. They were as bewitching as the moon. "My father beat my mother and me repeatedly. I feared one day he would go too far and one or both of us would die. He wandered into a nekker's nest, it would have been our freedom, our chance at life…but a witcher saved him and I was his prize. My mother was left alone with that monster. I never found out what happened to her. I returned years later, but the house had been deserted a long time and no one knew anything, only that they just stopped coming to town. In my heart I believe he killed her and moved on…" his voice faded away.

His story was truly heartbreaking. His father was a monster and she'd have killed him without thought. She felt pain for the boy he once was and for the acidic hate that was eating away at him like a poison. She put her arms around him and held him.

He was caught off guard by the hug. People tended to avoid him and with good reason. A part of him wanted to pull back and say something caustic to push her away. But the heat of her body warmed him like the comforting heat of a fire on a cold winter's night and he found his arms coming around her without his bidding. It was then that he realized just how dangerous she was to him. He was starting to like her and like led to caring which led to pain. He didn't want to care about anything…anyone.

She felt something and opened her eyes. For a brief moment there was a hint of another and it was gone.

He sighed…"Lavender. Sometimes I still smell it…my mother spent more time picking weeds from the lavender stalks then she did from the garden that fed us. She always smelled of lavender." The scent had always calmed him. And the memory of her at peace in her lavender garden…it was one of the few times he'd see her smiling.

She was not surprised at all when the body of a woman began to form. "I see you," she said quietly. The woman's face turned towards her, beautiful but somber, before it faded once more. There was no mistaking who the woman was; she could see the son in the mother. For her to be reaching out there was something she wanted or needed. Until the woman was strong enough to make her needs known, there was nothing she could do.

His hand skimmed up her spine to cup her head and tilt it back. The moonlight played across her face and hair, she shimmered like an ethereal vision and it took his breath away. "Then you would be the first," he murmured softly, lost, for a moment, in her liquid silver eyes. He felt the pressure of her hands on his chest, cleared his throat and released her just as sky opened up in a downpour. He laughed, scooped up the cub, and grabbed her hand. "Come on!" he said as they ran back into the keep.

Vesemir sighed in relief when he saw the pair return. Davor had been pacing a hole in the floor and Geralt had been growling at everyone. The others couldn't take it and quit the hall. His relief fell to concern when he noticed Angel's chattering teeth. "Get her up to her room to thaw out," he told Lambert, "then get into something dry and get your ass back down here. Geralt stay here, Davor get Triss and Leo. We all need to talk."

Geralt watched until Angel disappeared into the kitchen then his gaze settled on the flames that danced in fireplace. He'd risen a couple of times, but a knowing look from Vesemir was all it took and he sat back down. A shove against his shoulder broke his thoughts. He was surprised to find everyone but Eskel and Angel seated at the table. He wondered if Angel was resting, she had better be. He pulled his thoughts from her so he could participate in telling the others about Angel.

-BREAK FOUR-

Syntl was not resting. After warming by the fire she changed into her night clothes, thickening the material to help keep her warm and added a pair of matching slippers. She slipped Boo into the sling and materialized her harness so that he could nurse hidden within the folds of the material. She studied the tower room for a moment and then headed down the stairs. She repaired the hole in the ceiling she'd neglected earlier and then caught sight of Eskel coming from the library with a book in hand. "Can you tell me which room was to have been mine?"

He looked at her in confusion. Her voice was almost lyrical, beautiful but he couldn't understand her. "I'm sorry, Angel, what can I do for you?"

"Sorry," she said with a flush. "My..room?"

"Upstairs?" he asked pointing towards the doorway she's just come from.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Triss' room."

"Oh," he said with a warm grin. "Of course, follow me." He wasn't blind and he had tried not to stare at the black clothing that clung to her curves. Curves the armor had done little justice to. He led her to the room past the library on the left. He waved her in and followed. "This used to be used as a school room. But it's had little use since early in Leo's training."

It was apparent Triss had already been in here trying to clean it up. She moved to the large hole in the far right wall. Something must have hit the wall from the outside because all the pieces appeared to be within the keep. If it was another large rock like the old armory it must have been removed. She repaired the hole and cleaned the room.

"Angel, you exhausted yourself earlier. Perhaps you should take it easy?" Eskel asked with concern.

She smiled at him. "I am no exhausted."

"Not exhausted?" he corrected and then sighed. "I hope you know your limits now."

"Yes! I know my limits now." She was tickled that she'd said a decent sentence. "I heal fast." She frowned when she saw his confusion. She didn't know the words for heal and fast. She pulled the knife that was sheathed at his waist and drew it across her wrist.

It all happened too fast for him to have stopped her or even for him to be appalled because her flesh was already knitting back together. "You heal fast…" he murmured in shock.

Those were the words she needed. She beamed him a smile. "Yes, I heal fast," she repeated in his language, wiped the blade with her shirt and handed it back. The material was natural and the blood absorbed into it. Were her clothing damaged her blood would repair it, which was why Kin only wore nature fibers.

"The windows are stunning," he said softly. Unlike the stained glass in Triss' old room, the glass was clear, but the edges around the iron inlays were faceted. He could only imagine what it would look like when the sun came through during the day. He watched in wonder as she added some kind of glowing moss to the walls. It was almost as if small stars lit up the room. "Beautiful…." he said, the word little more than a whisper.

"I need fire," she said pointing to the hearth devoid of wood. She heard him leave as she studied the room trying to decide what should go where. With a sigh she waved her hand and Triss' furniture appeared. Better. Now it was easier to figure out how it should be situated. Without Triss here she could only set it up in a way that appealed to her, she or the men could change it later.

With a satisfied smile she turned around and nearly ran into Eskel who was returning with an armful of wood. He placed a few pieces in the fireplace and placed the rest next to it. He signed igni and flames burst from the logs.

He was stunned by what she'd accomplished so quickly. Furs were laid out in front of the fireplace, a rug in front of the bed, and furniture tastefully arranged. The room was simply unrecognizable. There was still a lot of empty space, but he didn't think it'd take the sorceress long to fill it. He caught her rubbing her arms out of the corner of his eye. "When it's cold it is best to wear loose clothing. It traps a layer of body heat between your skin and your clothing." When her clothes no longer hugged her body quite so nicely he suggested tucking her shirt into her pants.

She never would have thought of that. "Thank you, Eskel. You are," she patted her heart, "man."

He cocked his head. "I'm a love man?" At her expression he laughed. "A nice man? A good man? A lovely man? A charming man?' he said with a waggle of his brows.

A hand flew to her mouth but she couldn't stifle the giggle. "Yes. All. Thank you. You are all man."

He burst out laughing. "I will take that as a compliment. I am glad you see me as all man, it would have damaged my fragile male ego if you thought I was merely half a man," he teased.

She stepped right into that one. "You are…"

He grinned. "Rotten? Amazing? Sexy?"

She laughed and gave him a push towards the door. "Come to me."

He cleared his throat. "I think you mean come with me." Though, "come to me" was far more enticing.

"Yes. Come with me." She led him through Geralt's room and into his through the connecting door. She pointed to the wall. "Want a door?"

"You can do that?" he asked in awe. Well, obviously she could or she wouldn't have asked. He wondered if she would ever stop surprising him. He watched her look over the doorway between his and Geralt's room and then he saw a rounded wooden frame appear in the stone. In a blink, the stone within it vanished and he could see the hall. A door appeared tilted against the wall next to the doorway. She pointed to the side of the frame and shrugged. "Don't worry about the hinges, Angel. I'll take care of that. I'm just…thank you!" As silly as it was, it felt like freedom.

"You are welcome." She took his hand and led him to Geralt's room. "You want…all?" she asked as she waved her arm around the room.

He just blinked until realization sank in. She was asking if he wanted to have the same furnishings that she'd made for Geralt. "Angel, you've done too much. I'll make do with what I've got. I always have."

He might _make do_ , but she could see, at least for a moment, the want in his eyes and that was all she needed and she pointed behind him.

He looked through the doorway and his mouth fell open. The rotting furniture was replaced with what looked to be silky woods and new materials that he had no name for. His swords and armor now stood in fancy stands. He walked slowly into the room. She'd thought of everything even the beveled glass windows. When he reached the bed he pressed down on it with his hands. The mattress supported his weight, but molded around the edges of his hands. He rose and turned to face her. "Angel – I…" What do you tell someone that just handed you the moon and the stars on a silver platter? "Thank you." That was so inadequate.

He hugged her and kissed her forehead. "Thank you is so inadequate. I just don't have the words.."

She returned his hug and stepped back. "You teach me to talk."

He grinned. "I will gladly teach you to speak our language. I would have done it regardless. I'll also help train you. Any questions you have…anything you want to learn, just ask." Again, he would have done it regardless, but he had to feel like he was doing something to repay her for her kindness. And, maybe, someday he would find a way to truly repay her.

She inclined her head to him. "Good night, Eskel."

He watched her leave through the new doorway and let out a ragged breath. "Good night, Angel," he said softly. Hinges. Right. He headed to the old armory to get what he needed to install the door.

She stopped off at Davor's room. She'd sent the stones from Eskel's doorway to Davor's room. It wasn't enough stone to make the smaller fireplace, but the less material she had to create the easier it was for her. She formed a small chimney over the middle part of the window. Slats of wood down the length of the window would work as the flue. The fireplace was only half the size of the other's she'd seen, but should be sufficient to warm the smaller room. The other two sections of the window now had beveled glass.

She walked down the small set of stairs and turned right to head up the staircase to her new bedroom. The fire glowed warm and inviting in the middle of the room. She couldn't help but feel she ended up with the better end of the deal with Triss. The other room turned out amazing…but this one was magical. She created her bed first. It had 4 tall posts and fabric draped over it, tied to the posts with golden cords. The fabric was gauzy; the main goal was to keep bugs out. She didn't want to sleep in a cave.

She then added a bookcase, an armoire, and two night tables. Her room was starting to look like a home. She added two sofas next to each other facing the fireplace and then added a desk and an oval tub behind a partition. Her brows drew together as she wondered how she would ever use the tub. Carting water up and down a staircase did not seem appealing in the slightest.

Something was missing…Ah, Boo's bed. Once everything was in order she laid Boo in his bed and crawled into hers. Sleep…sleep was her best friend right now.

-BREAK FIVE-

When the meeting ended Triss yawned and went to her old room. She was fascinated by all she'd learned. A race from someplace else called Kin. If what she'd learned was true, that meant the Kin were far older than the ancient elves and their power was unimaginable. How could Angel be content here living a normal life when she could live as a God or at the very least an Empress that ruled everyone? She didn't know anyone that wouldn't be corrupted by that kind of power, even herself.

Triss froze at the top of the stairs. There was nothing familiar about the room that had once been hers and Yennefer's. She thought she'd have to spend days getting her new room together and then sweet talk the men into moving her things down. But it appeared Angel must have already taken care of it, no wonder she was sleeping.

She turned around and moved quickly back down the stairs. She cut through Davor's room and hurried down the hall. She inhaled and opened the door. The air whooshed from her lungs. The walls were like a starry sky and her furnishings were artfully arranged. Not a tome or scroll was out of place. Even the fire was welcoming and warm, obviously having been started some time ago. The room that was left over was begging to be filled. It was far better than she imagined it would be.

Her attention was drawn to the windows. It wasn't the stained glass she was used to, but it was far more beautiful. The faceting was sure to throw some amazing rainbows. She clapped her hands and hurried over to her trunk. She finally had room to set up her megascope. She needed to check in with the lodge, but she would do so when everyone was busy tomorrow.

She was just finishing the megascope's setup when she heard footsteps in the hall. She peeked out the door she'd left open and grinned when she saw Geralt. "Geralt! Come have a drink with me, we haven't had time to talk yet."

He wasn't really in the mood, but if they were close before he owed that much to her. "Fine, Triss." He stepped into the room and just stared. He never imagined to see the room look so inviting. There was nothing left of the classroom it had once been. Goddamn it, Angel. She was supposed to be resting! He clenched his jaw and turned around.

She put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. "Geralt, what of our drink? Where are you going?"

"To give Angel hell," he grumbled.

"She's asleep, Geralt. Give her hell tomorrow. She put herself through a great deal of stress today, she needs rest tonight," Triss pointed out.

He stopped and looked down at her. "How do you know she's asleep?" After seeing Triss' room he wouldn't put it past her to be up and exhausting herself further.

Triss smiled warmly. "I went to her room to go to bed and was stunned to see a room I didn't recognize. She was curled up in bed or I might have given her hell myself." In truth she would not have, she'd have probably thanked her rather than give her hell, but white lies were harmless and often beneficial. "Our drink, Geralt," she said with a slight tug on his arm.

With a last look of the doorway, he sighed and relented. "A drink then. Though any talk will probably be one sided, I don't remember much."

"You don't need to, Geralt. It will just be nice to spend time with you after being separated for so long." She released his arm to pour them drinks.

She talked easily with him as the wine flowed, telling him about her arrival to Kaer Morhen and the local state of politics as well as the pressure from the South. Some feared Nilfgaard would eventually invade the North in a greedy grab for more power. By the time she finished filling him in she could feel the warmth of the wine's gentle buzzing embrace. But there was another embrace she wanted. She set her wine glass down on the table and moved towards the chair he was seated in, her hips swaying just enough to not look overly dramatic. "I'm glad you stayed, Geralt. I've missed you."

He didn't know what to say to that. He didn't remember her to miss her, but he rose as she approached. The heat in her eyes and the gentle sway of her hips told him she was more than willing to end the night on a far more pleasurable note. When she was in arms reach her pulled her to him and lowered his mouth to hers. His experience saved the kiss, but he felt nothing when he held her. He released her and took a step back when she started releasing the fastening of his armored tunic. "You are a beautiful woman, Triss, but I am also a tired man." Not to mention he was just starting to feel the effects of the alcohol he'd drank.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment to hide the flash of pain. "Of course, Geralt. You nearly died last week, I'm sure you are still recovering. We could both use some sleep." It was the closest she would come to asking him to hold her while they slept.

He inclined his head to her. "Good night, Triss."

She frowned as he left her room. "Good night, Geralt," she said as she closed her door. It had been silly of her to push things this soon; he was still recovering from whatever he'd gone through. Whatever stole his memory and ravaged his body. But at least the kiss was something…a foot in the door. She just had to remember that right now he was not the Geralt she knew, but that was also why she had this chance with him. She crawled into bed and fell into a troubled sleep.

Geralt ignored the closing of the door as he stared at a new door that had not been there before and shook his head. More of Angel's handiwork. This one at least gave him more privacy…but she should have waited. Was the floor moving? Damn, he knew better than to drink that much…at least he was home and didn't have to be on guard. He stumbled into his room and collapsed on his new bed where he tossed and turned. Sleep evaded him.

After a couple of hours he rose on unsteady legs and used the wall to support him as he headed in the direction of the tower room. His hand froze on Davor's door but he stopped just short of opening it. He did not care to wake Davor up. The stairs…they were fixed. He'd managed to pull that much out of his brain. When he reached the stairs he opted to crawl up them with his shoulder hugging the wall. Railings would have saved his dignity, but dignity was beyond him at the moment because each step proved a new hurdle to tackle, especially since they were bucking like a skittish mare.

He toppled onto his side at the top of the stairs as his world spun. After a few calming breaths he heaved himself back onto his feet. Progress…he only nearly fell on his face once. He removed pieces of his armor as he approached the bed. He crawled up the foot of the bed and settled on his side. With a groan he pulled her up against him and drew her leg over his thighs.

She wasn't sure what woke her up first the smell of wine or the feel of his hands on her warm skin. She considered flashing him back to his bed, but before the thought fully coalesced she felt his teeth sink into the curve of her neck and she was lost to the pleasure of the draw. Her fingers slid through his long, white hair to hold him close as her teeth descended and pierced his skin.

His hand skimmed down her back to grip her ass as he slid slowly into her. This time he made love to her tenderly, drawing on her blood until they drifted over the precipice on a cloud of pleasure. He grazed his lips across hers. "Perfect…" he murmured as his heavy lids lowered.

"Close," she whispered as she stroked his cheek. Perfect required love and there was no love here. This…whatever this was…whatever was between them had to stop. She wasn't cut out to be some man's lover or a casual tryst. When she was sure he was sound asleep she flashed him to his bed. Hopefully he hadn't moved it, if he had he'd wake up on a cold, hard floor...but perhaps that would serve as a lesson for drinking so much.

-BREAK SIX-

Come morning the light coming in from the window awoke him. Something seemed off. He thought he'd spent the night with Angel, but maybe the drink had addled his dreams. He drew his legs over the side of the bed and saw his armor lying in a pile beside the bed. He pulled on his armor and strapped on his swords. He frowned at the taste of his breath and brushed his teeth.

Everyone was already up by the time he made it downstairs. He ate a quick solitary breakfast and then hurried out to take care of his morning business before finding out what everyone was up to. As he suspected he found Angel at the training grounds. Not only that, it appeared everyone was neglecting their morning duties to watch.

Apparently everyone had already had a go at Angel and was laughing with each other talking quietly about how she'd thrown them on their asses. Vesemir was the last and he was currently facing off with her. This time it wasn't so much about training, but it was about assessing.

From what he was hearing, Angel was holding her own against the sword master…at least until his arrival and their eyes met.

"Damnit, Angel…Focus!" Vesemir shouted as the flat of his blade slammed into her side. "Your opponent isn't going to wait until you are ready; he's going to use your distraction!" When her eyes were back on him he started throwing insults at her trying to bait her into doing something rash. He was impressed she didn't fall for it. He was even more impressed with her agility and speed.

Vesemir lowered his sword tip to the ground and bowed to her. He then removed his swords and faced her for hand to hand combat. He'd had time to study her moves when she faced off with the others. Even so, seeing something done was different from experiencing it. But he wasn't fooling himself. He didn't think he'd fare any better than the others. He was old and not in the shape he used to be while she was young and extremely nimble on her feet. If he was thrown, there would be no shame in it. And then she was a flurry of hands, knees and feet; he was put on the defensive quickly.

When he managed to land a blow to her side she turned into it and used the momentum as she launched herself into the air. Her body twisted sharply as she brought her legs up. They connected with Vesemir's back, dropping him to his hands and knees.

"I yield," Vesemir said his breath coming in harsh pants. When all was said and done, at least he hadn't ended up on his back. He rose to his feet and arched back to relieve the kinks. "Fighting you is like taking on the wind. We could use that if you are willing to train us."

"Of course," she said with a grin.

"I expect all of you down here every morning for training," Vesemir barked. "Geralt take her to the posts in an hour. When you're finished take her to Eskel. Davor follow me. The rest of you…back to your duties," he said dismissing them.

Geralt removed his swords and approached her as the group dispersed. "We have an hour, plenty of time if you want to spar." He was curious as to why she took a step back for each step he took towards her.

"I – no," she said backing away until her back pressed up against something hard. She'd backed herself into a corner. A very secluded corner. Not the wisest course of action. "I've been sparring all morning, I lack the energy." While there was just enough truth in that to keep it from being an outright lie, she couldn't risk sparring with him, not with the way her body responded to him.

He released the first few buttons of his armored tunic and drew it aside to expose the curve of his neck to her. "Then take what you need from me," he said, his voice deepening with his growing need. Every time he was around her he felt like a starving man.

Her hand flew to her mouth when she felt her teeth descend. She tried to will them to recede, but they failed to respond. She wanted to flash away but she was drowning in the molten heat of his gaze.

He gently pulled her hand from her mouth and placed her palm against his lips. His tongue darted out to taste her. With a groan he stepped into her and lowered his head to claim her lips. He drew his tongue over the tip of her tooth to slice it before deepening the kiss. When he finally pulled back he lowered her head until her mouth rested against the curve of his neck. He hissed and his body shuddered when he felt the sting of her bite. Heat and pleasure coursed through him and he ground against her with in raw need.

He pulled aside the neck of her jacket and bit down. Her hot, sweet blood, finer than any wine, slid over his tongue. With her pressed against the wall his hands slid down to grasp her thighs and lift them to his waist. After he felt them lock around him he ground against her heat. Was the whimper hers or his? He was beyond caring..where they were…who saw them…and when he felt the hot, liquid heat of her slick against arousal he angled his hips and drove into her with a growl. He released her neck to capture her lips, their cries of release muffled by the mating of their mouths.

He rested his forehead against hers while he waiting for his breathing and heart rate to slow. He reluctantly withdrew from her snug sheath when he heard voices in the distance. The material at his groin reappeared and her legs slid down his to settle on the ground. He skimmed a finger down her cheek. "I'll make up for this tonight," he murmured.

She released a ragged breath. "No, Ger, you won't. I'm sorry, but I can't go on like this."

Why did it feel like his house of cards was falling down around him and each one as sharp as a blade, slicing him as it fell? "Why not?" he asked hoarsely.

She slipped around him and kept her back to him. "I can't be someone's casual lover – I need…" she shook her head. "I'm not that kind of woman and I don't want to be," she said tightly, the words barely escaping the lump in her throat.

Permanent. She needed permanent and he was not that type of man. He had wondered if this day might come. He knew she had been saving her innocence for marriage, but he'd hoped that once she tasted passion that she wouldn't want to give it up….wouldn't want to give him up. He stepped up behind her and drew her back against him. "I'll try." That was all he could bring himself to say. He couldn't promise to stay away from her. The flames between them never cooled, all it took was a look to fan them into an inferno.

"I know," she said somberly. She couldn't deny her body ached for his touch. But she had to try to find the strength to be true to herself. "Take me to the posts."

-BREAK SEVEN-

As days turned into weeks snow began to pile up outside the keep. The men shoveled snow every morning just so they could train. It was important to train in all types of weather. They had to be able to maintain their footing no matter the conditions. But it also meant more time was spent inside. At least this gave Syntl more time to read all the tomes Vesemir had tossed at her and fix up other parts of the keep. The main hall no longer needed beams to hold it up. Lambert and Leo had been as excited as children when she'd finally gotten to their wing. And that was saying something for Lambert.

Snow was a new experience for her; it was biting cold and more of a hindrance than anything else. But Leo had taught her several things about snow. How to make snow angels, how to build both a fort and a snowman, an extremely entertaining game involving snow balls and most important…never touch yellow snow.

As with the case of any new skill, she had to practice. She started with trees and walls, but there was no sport in it. So she began to hunt the men. They were quick to pelt her back and often it ended up in a free for all..at least until one of them heard her chattering teeth and dragged her back into the keep for hot tea in front of a fire.

Boo was growing fast and as with any young child he had a lot to learn. Shoes had been the hardest thing for him to give up. He knew he wasn't supposed to chew on them, he just found them hard to resist. It was Leo that found a solution to that problem. He gave Boo a large hide doll that quickly became the cub's favorite toy. He was prone to carrying it around whenever he was in the keep, batting it and pouncing on it frequently. He even enjoyed having it tossed so he could catch it out of the air. He was careful not to use his claws; he seemed to know that if he did he might destroy his greatest treasure. Once Angel was sure enough that he wasn't going to stumble off the stairwell, despite the railing she'd put up, she started leaving her door cracked so he could get in and out of her room. The others made it a habit to keep their doors closed. Even though he'd given shoes up, they chose not to risk it. He learned not to use claws and teeth on people, furniture or the horses when he was still a tiny cub. He was, however allowed to use them on the logs stacked next to the hearth. They used the shredded bits as tinder.

After much persuasion from Angel and time, the horses came to accept him and he rewarded them by keeping the stable clear of rats that continued to try to nest in the grain, hay and straw that was stored there. And that is where Syntl found him, lying on a pile of straw in a ray of sunlight. That is where she also ran into Geralt and Leo saddling their horses. "I thought you two were heading out earlier?"

"Hoping to avoid me?" Geralt asked tersely. He didn't mean to say it the way he had, but it that she didn't seem to want to be around him anymore. He felt like he'd lost more than just a lover, he'd lost a friend as well. He missed her… but he couldn't bring himself to tell her. She'd probably run off before he got the chance to anyway.

She released a slow breath. The tone of his voice raked across her. It hurt, even if there was some truth to it. She didn't intentionally avoid him but nor could she be too physically close to him…not the way her body responded to him. She dropped his gaze and focused on his medallion. "I – no, Ger…it's not that. I..just no."

The look of pain that had settled in her eyes bothered him. He took a step towards her to apologize and froze when she took a quick step backwards into Eskel, whose arms came up to grasp her.

"Don't be an ass, Geralt! I was the one that held us up this morning, Angel, but at least we still have plenty of time to hunt," Leo said trying to smooth things over.

Eskel looked from Geralt to Leo. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Geralt bit out. "We were just leaving." He mounted Roach and moved out.

Leo quickly mounted his bay. He smiled down at Angel as he passed her. "You still owe me a game of dice tonight."

She laughed. "Are you wanting to lose your shirt?"

"Yes!" he said with a chuckle. "Strip poker it is."

"Funny," she called out loudly. "Not likely, little brother…" she murmured as she watched the pair ride off.

"Ouch. Little brother, that's worse than friend. Poor kid doesn't even know he doesn't stand a chance," Eskel said with a grin.

She slipped into Titan's stall, checked over his shoes and then looked at Eskel. "A chance at what?"

He settled her pad and saddle on her stallion's back and stepped away quickly. "A chance at you, Angel. You should see the silly grin that lights up his face when you aren't looking," he said as he saddled his own horse.

She couldn't stop the shiver as she slipped the bridle over Titan's head. It was a truly unpleasant thought. "He is a young man and Triss and I are the only women here.."

He grunted. "Triss might be a woman but she's also a sorceress. Witchers tolerate them because we occasionally need them…why burn a bridge? But we do not trust them. They always have a hidden agenda, always plotting and planning and they will use you to achieve their ends. Everything about them is a deception, including their looks. They can never truly be trusted."

"I will keep that in mind," she said as she mounted up and followed him out of the courtyard. As they moved into the tree line she was surrounded by a world of white. "It doesn't matter how many times I see this, each time I do it's like seeing it anew. It's breathtaking."

"It is beautiful," Eskel agreed. "But it is also deadly. Reminds me of a royal court. The court is a den of vipers playing at intrigue. One wrong word and you could fall into disfavor or lose your head. Here," he said waving his hand at the area around them. "The beauty hides twisted branches, rabbit holes, and traps and that's if a branch heavy with snow doesn't break and fall on your head. Beauty often masks great danger."

She knew nothing about court life, but she could see the danger of not knowing what lurked under the snow. "Is that subtle stab at sorceresses?" she asked in jest. His deep laugh was infectious.

"This is the spot," he said as he dismounted. "And I suppose it is, though I didn't have that in mind when I said it." He scooped her from the saddle and set her on the ground. "But it also describes you. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, but you are also the most deadly."

She shuddered. "I don't like seeing myself in that light."

Eskel grinned as his fingertips gently brushed the hair from the side of her face. "Beautiful or deadly?" he asked softly.

"Both," she admitted. "Especially now that I know one is equated with the other. I would never hurt.."

His hand settled on the nape of her neck and his thumb grazed over her cheek. "I know that. You build, you don't destroy. But the power to do so is there nonetheless. Just as a caterpillar clings to his branch in desperation, knowing if he eats he will change but unable to stop his mad gluttony. He cannot be other than he is…a beautiful, deadly butterfly."

"Butterflies are deadly?" She couldn't imagine how the beautifully patterned insects could be deadly.

"Some are if you eat them," he teased with a grin.

She cringed and shuddered and laughed at the same time. "Ew. I shall try to restrain myself then." The smile slipped from her face. "I just don't want people to look me and see danger."

He grunted. "At least they will not look at you and cringe. To them I'm as hideous as the monsters I protect them from. "

His smile was sardonic, but she could still see the brief pain in his eyes before he shuttered it away. She lifted her hand and drew her fingertips slowly down the scars that lined the side of his face. "But you help them anyway." She leaned in and placed a kiss his scarred cheek. "I see the beautiful man you are, Eskel. Don't let - "

Women didn't touch his scars, they certainly never kissed them. He silenced her with a kiss that was filled with an emotion he did not have the words for. When she responded he pulled her against him. The tender, sensual kiss giving way to hunger until he felt her hands push at his shoulders. He released a steadying breath. "I know your principles and I respect them. I didn't kiss you to seduce you into my bed...not that I'd kick you out of it, but I'd never push for more than you were comfortable with. You're safe with me."

"I know that, Eskel. I've never thought otherwise," she assured him. "And you are a very talented kisser, I'm just uncertain why.." The unmarred corner of his mouth twitched and lifted, giving him an adorable lopsided grin.

"A man would have to be dead to not want to kiss you, Angel. But that is not why I did. You touched me…"

Her brows drew together in confusion. "Of course I…" She was flabbergasted. Of course she touched him. Should she not have? "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"No woman has ever touched my scars before, much less kiss them. For you to see _me_ and not just my scars…" he said gesturing to his face and shook his head. He didn't know the words to tell her what that meant to him. Nothing seemed adequate. "It – well, it meant a lot to me, thank you." He cleared his throat. "Let's finish our task so we can go thaw out."

She looked over at the frozen water. "How can you fish when the water is frozen?"

He grinned at her. "By cutting a hole in the ice and lowering a net. It's not frozen all the way, the fish are beneath the ice and too slow to move very fast."

"The ice…it's from fast moving water, so it's safe to drink?"

He nodded. "As safe as it can be." He untied the net and motioned her to follow him out onto the ice. "See where the water falls off this rock ledge and into a deeper pool? I'll cut a hole there and we'll lower the net." He blinked when he saw a large, oval hole appear in the ice. "That just saved me a lot of work."

They stood on each side of the hole, net in hand and lowered it into the fast flowing water. "I don't suppose you can just talk the fish into jumping into our net?"

"Not likely. Fish can't speak. I…wait, I can try something." She tightened one hand on the net and pulled her glove off with her teeth and dropped it onto the ice. She squatted down and slid her hand into the water behind the net. She pushed all of her body heat into her hand slowly twitched her fingers.

"Angel, what the hell do you think you're doing? Get your hand out of that water!" He knew the cold affected her more keenly and he tended to be one of the first to usher her back inside when she'd been out too long.

"Shh…you'll scare them away," she murmured. "They are cold and hungry, I'm drawing them." She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. These fish would feed Boo too, she had to do something.

"Enough, Angel!" he hissed. Her goddamned lips were turning blue.

She could feel the fish bumping her hand. "Now!"

They quickly closed the net and dragged it onto the ice. The haul was too heavy to be carried. While Eskel tied the net to his horse's saddle she moved stiffly to go retrieve her glove. There was little she could do to hide the shaking of her body as it tried to produce the energy to warm her. She looked down at her glove, it seemed a mile away.

After he tied the net securely he turned and spotted angel near the hole in the ice. She was shaking so badly he feared she'd fall in. He hurried over to her, picked up her glove, which was now wet and useless, stuffed it into his pocket and scooped her up into his arms.

He looked from his horse, Scorpion, that would be hauling a heavy load of fish and then to Titan. "Will he let me mount him? You're in no shape to ride alone."

Titan brought his large, soft muzzle to her cheek and blew on her. He stamped his rear hoof and then lowered himself down on one knee.

He was grateful for the stallion's thoughtfulness. Once he mounted and had her settled against him, he opened his heavy coat and closed it around her. Their trek back was slower, by the time they reached the courtyard his teeth were chattering too. He was surprised to see Davor, Lambert, Triss and Vesemir rushing out of the keep. How had they even known?

When Titan kneeled down he swung his leg over and slid off the side of the stallion. He handed Angel over to Davor when he asked for her and tightened his coat around himself.

Triss hurried back into the keep in front of Davor. "I'll move that couch thing closer to the fire and fix her some hot tea," she said as she rushed on ahead.

Vesemir watched them go and then turned his gaze on Eskel. "We'll talk later, get inside and warm up, Lambert and I will take care of the horses and the haul." When he saw Titan stamp his foot, his ears folded back tightly to his head, he sighed. "Then stay saddled," he muttered to the stallion.

He glanced away when he heard two horses come thundering through the courtyard.

"What happened to her?" Geralt asked as he vaulted off Roach. He had felt something happen and broke off their hunt. At least they'd brought down two bucks, before he'd broke off the hunt for the third.

Vesemir shrugged. "We don't know yet. Thought the grilling could wait until she warmed back up."

Geralt hefted the carcass of the dear over his shoulders. "Leo, take your dear to the cellar and then take care of Roach for me. I'll help with the fish and take care of Titan." He hung the dear up by its tied hooves and then helped Vesemir and Lambert haul the large net of fish to the cellar.

Vesemir watched as Lambert lead Scorpion away and then turned to Leo. "I'll take care of Roach, see to your own mount." He enjoyed spending time with the horses and he loved brushing them out. He found it peaceful and stress reducing.

Geralt rubbed the stallion's wide blaze and then led him into his stall. He took the bridal off first and hung it on a nearby peg. "You really should let others help you." He sighed when the stallion nudged him with his head. "I know you let me help you, but she would want you to let them help you too." He drew the saddle and pad off his back and settled it on the saddle stand. Titan shook his head and snorted.

How do you talk sense into a horse? He stewed over that as he brushed him out and cleaned his hooves. When he finished he took Titan's head between his hands. "You don't have to let them mount you, that choice is yours, but they trust you to keep Angel safe; she would want you to trust them to keep you safe." He patted the stallion's neck as he left. By the time he reached her room both couches had been arranged in front of the fire. A teapot and several cups were sitting on the hearth's ledge. Eskel was seated on the second sofa wrapped up with a blanket, holding cup in his hands. Davor was also sitting wrapped up in a blanket holding a cup, but on the same sofa as Angel who was currently covered in a blanket sitting on Triss' lap. That he had not expected to see.

He pulled the blanket off Angel and laid it over the couch's arm. He scooped her off Triss' lap without a word. When Triss rose to pour herself a cup of tea he sat down next to the arm of the couch and drew the blanket back over Angel.

When Triss turned back around Davor was holding out his arm, obviously with the intent of sharing his blanket with her; ever the chivalrous prince. She curled up against his side and he closed the blanket around them. She doubted Geralt would notice or care that she was in another man's arms, at least not while he was so wrapped up in Angel…literally. And right now Davor's returning warmth is what interested her chilled body most.

Geralt released an unsteady breath when his body responded to the woman in his arms. His thoughts hadn't even been going in that direction, but his body didn't seem to know or care. At least his raised temperature would help warm her. He bit back a moan when she snuggled against him, her hip brushing against his thickening arousal.

Syntl was keenly aware of what was pressed against her hip. It was something her body couldn't ignore. Heat, both welcomed and unwelcomed, coursed through her veins and pooled in her groin, causing her core to clench in need. She let out a small, sharp breath. This was why she didn't get too close to him. He was her weakness.

Geralt glanced away from Angel when Vesemir, Lambert and Leo stepped into view at the top of her stairs. They settled down next to Eskel and who began to tell them what had happened to Angel. He didn't think she was aware that she was caressing his chest, she hadn't touched him for the last several weeks and he could not even bring himself to hope that she'd changed her mind. But he'd missed her touch far more than he wanted to admit. If only he could feel her touch against his skin rather than his clothing. Regardless of the distraction, he did his best to focus on Eskel's words.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Leo asked Eskel, the censure strong in his voice.

Eskel scoffed. "What would you suggest I should have done? Drop the net into the water and tackle her? Have you tried stopping her when she wants to do something? You'd have better luck boiling water with naught more than a glance."

Vesemir frowned. "I don't approve of the means, but I can't argue the results. We have enough fish to last us for quite some time. However, I'm more inclined to keep you at home than send you out into the cold again."

She stiffened and glared at Vesemir. "What do you propose I do here at the keep? Cook, clean and wash clothing? Once in awhile is fine, I'll do my share, but I'll not become a damned maid!"

Vesemir was surprised how much that remark stung. "That's not what I was suggesting," he said stiffly. "I will just be more careful with assignments." In fact, he'd already decided if she was to stray very far from Kaer Morhen again in the middle of winter it would be either with him or Geralt. Eskel was right, she was too powerful to be controlled, but were she with someone with a firm enough bearing she might be tempered…or balanced.

"I can take care of myself," she grumped. Her ire only peaking when she heard the chorus of, 'no you can't'.

Vesemir rose from the couch. "Being able to protect yourself is not the same as taking care of yourself. 'Night all, these old bones need some rest," he said with a slight wave as he headed for the stairwell.

Syntl rose from the comfortable lap she'd been on. She was warm enough that her movements were no longer stiff. She needed to let Vesemir know there were no hard feelings. She did what she felt needed done at the time, she didn't regret that. Her body would have warmed on its own eventually, but she appreciated that they cared. She hurried over to Vesemir to give him a hug before he went downstairs.

The others took that cue to leave as well. Davor hung back, hoping Geralt would leave, but the man was taking his time. He watched Boo head down with the others; no doubt one of them would let him out.

When she realized neither man seemed in a hurry to go she decided now was a good time to get something to eat. "I don't know about either of you, but I need to get something to eat," she said, the tone in her voice light, as she headed for the stairs.

Geralt grunted. "Agreed." He'd been out most of the day hunting with Leo; his own belly was in want. But he couldn't help but wonder if she'd asked Davor to make sure she wasn't left alone with him. He couldn't really see her doing such a thing, but she was good at avoiding him. He wasn't sure why that bothered him, but it did. Though it was not something he'd admit to. She had just been a pleasant diversion, nothing more. He just needed to take a trip to town and then everything would be back on track.

Another couple of months slipped by, winter's frigid peak now behind them…still, he just hadn't found the time to leave Kaer Morhen. At least not yet. But it had only been a few scant weeks since he'd decided to go. His days consisted of shoveling, training, tending the horses, chopping wood and whatever other chores Vesemir threw at him. He and the other men had even started making repairs to the keep. They had decided they would not let Angel do it all. It actually seemed to create a sense of brotherhood, even if they did grumble through each repair they made. He managed to fall into bed exhausted each night.

Training was going well. Angel was getting as proficient with their techniques as they were with hers. She'd even challenged him to spar blindfolded with her. The odds were in her favor. She was faster and seemed to be able to see despite the blindfold. But he'd accepted her challenge anyway. With his eyes bound he had to focus on his other senses…the minute changes in the air around him, his hearing, and the feel of the vibrations from the ground beneath his feet. He also used her body heat along with his body's reaction when she was near. He was in tune with her and could feel her. But the bond they had worked both ways, for it meant she could feel him as well.

At first he was on the defensive, blocking rather than attacking as he studied her movements with his senses. He found himself able to parry moves he'd not been able to in the past. Once comfortable he switched to offensive measures. He wasn't having much luck until he feigned to the right and then struck out with the other leg, sweeping her feet out from under her. He heard the thud and rush of air from her lungs. He couldn't help but grin. It was the first time he'd managed to put her on her back. He had little time to gloat, he felt something strike his legs and he went down. His elbows caught him, but so did something soft and warm.

When he heard her moan he ground his thickening arousal against her and used her soft cry to guide him to her lips. The blindfold seemed to heighten everything he felt, adding a layer of sensuality that made him all the more hungry for her. And then she was gone. He rolled over onto his back for a moment until his breathing calmed and then he sat up.

Leo grinned. "Do I want to know why you are sitting on the ground blindfolded?"

Geralt sighed, took the blindfold off and rose to his feet. "I was sparring with Angel."

"Blindfolded," Leo said in disbelief. "And how did that go?"

He grinned. "I dropped her and…she disappeared." A snowball hit him on the side of the head. He swung his head around and threw up his hand just in time to avoid another from hitting him square in the face. "You are going down…again," he said as he gathered his own snow ball.

Leo laughed. "Serves you right for bragging about tossing her on her ass." He was quick to join in the snowball fight until Geralt eventually called an end to it.

"Get inside, Angel. You're cold," his tone was not unkind, but it was firm.

She frowned. "You can't - "

As soon as he took determined strides in her direction she backed off in a huff and stormed back to the keep. He sighed. He was really getting tired of her walking away from him. He would have preferred a confrontation.

Leo slapped his shoulder. "Better you than me," he said as he followed her into the keep.

Geralt grunted. "I'm sure."


	3. Witcher Ch3 - Kaer Morhen part2

Witcher – Winds of Change

Chapter Three

Kaer Morhen – Unveiled Truths

Over the past few months her language had improved enough that the barrier was broken and she was able to have conversations with everyone. She could at least survive on her own if she had to, but she couldn't imagine leaving behind these precious people. She'd come to love each and every one of them as family. Something she didn't think she'd ever find in this alien world. Despite the fact that she was, in actuality, much older than them she'd come to see Vesemir as a father, Lambert as an ornery older brother, Eskel as a caring friend, and Leo as a baby brother.

Triss too she came to care for, although she still didn't trust her like she did the others. Regardless, they'd spend many a night talking about the things they'd done as children, even going so far as to style each others' hair. One rather pleasant evening they'd had a bit too much to drink and decided to play dress up. Triss pulled out some of her nicer clothing and Syntl used each piece to create variances in cut and style. Her ability to use colors was also growing. Fabrics were the hardest to get the hang of, because they were created from plant or animal hair fibers. The clothing she created did not have the rough look of natural fibers. She did discover, however, that she didn't much care for dresses. They were either too tight and restricted her movement or too loose and kept getting in the way. But at least now she knew how to make them and could wear them if she needed to.

That night their laughter had drawn the men into Triss' room and they watched as the happily drunk women paraded around in different clothing. Their bodies weren't all that different. Both women were well endowed and beautifully formed, the difference lie in height and body conditioning. Syntl, at 5'10 was as tall as the average man, though she was considered tiny by Kin standards, and her body well honed.

She materialized dresses on them and then held out her hand to Vesemir. "Teach me a dance."

Vesemir flushed. "It has been a very long time since I've danced, Angel. I might just stomp all over your feet," he warned.

Syntl grinned. "My feet are willing to take the risk." When he took her hand she began to hum.

Vesemir had originally had another dance in mind, but when he heard her melancholy tune he decided on a dance that would fit it better. He started slow to allow her to learn the steps. She caught on quickly and he twirled her around.

Syntl tried to ignore the fact that Triss had pulled a protesting Geralt into a dance. Hear heart squeezed painfully and she looked away from them.

Vesemir sighed. "Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

"What?" she flushed when his words sank in. "Oh. Geralt." She wasn't going to play coy and pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. She sighed. "What he wants from me I can't give him. He wants casual. I – that's not the kind of woman I am," she admitted.

He wasn't too sure Geralt just wanted casual. He'd seen the way the man looked at her when she wasn't looking. The raw hunger, pain and turmoil were hard to witness. If he truly did not care for Angel then he'd be bedding Triss and it was obvious he was not. In fact, he was getting edgier and more surly with each passing day. Something had to give and soon. "Witcher's aren't supposed to love…it distracts them. But the heart does as it wills. I was in love once too. But we were forced to part."

She could tell the woman still held a place in his heart. His voice softened when he spoke of her. "I always knew there was a soft heart under all that gruff."

Vesemir grunted. "Be kind to an old man and don't ruin his reputation."

She laughed. "Your reputation is safe with me."

He shook his head and smiled. "When you put it that way…." Ah...the silly thoughts of an old man. He cleared his throat. "Do you love him?" He didn't know her as long as Geralt, but in some ways he knew her better. She was open and honest and easy to talk to; even her patience and fairness were becoming something of a legend within these walls. The men would seek her out if there was an issue they could not settle between them. That said a lot about what they felt for her and how they saw her. Any one of them would trust her to have their backs and any one of them would lay down their life for her. That was the loyalty and love she inspired without even trying. She'd even managed to bring a light and warmth to Lambert, at least when she was around. Regardless, the edge of his bitterness was dulling. She was good for the men. And he suspected any one of them would turn in their bachelorhood if she gave them the least bit of encouragement. Davor was a given and they'd have made the perfect match, but much like fate, one could not control the heart. He'd seen her watching Geralt, the same way the white wolf watched her. It was obvious she loved him, but love had a power and life all its own, it could make or break someone, so it was the hardest to admit to and the most likely to be fought.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Of course I do, I love all of you."

He shook his head and eyed her levelly. "I think you know that's not what I meant, child," he chided her.

How could she answer that? It was something she spent most of her time trying to avoid thinking about. _Was_ she in love with Geralt? She was pulled to him in a way she didn't understand. He plagued her dreams every night and often her thoughts during the day. When she was in his arms she never wanted to leave. She'd never felt more safe and content than when he'd held her at night and she missed waking up to the sight of his face. But was that love? Was she willing to give up her home for him? Give up everything she knew and loved to stay here with him? On the other hand, when the gateway was fixed and they came for her, could she leave him? Pain gripped her heart and she let out a harsh breath. She looked over at Geralt. She knew it was too late for her. When he turned and caught her gaze she looked away. "Do you know what loving him costs me?" she asked hoarsely.

The pain in her eyes caused his heart to ache, he had lived her pain. He lifted his hand from her hip and cupped the side of her face. "I know, child. Our stories are not the same, but they are similar. I was not welcome in her world and I couldn't ask her to leave it. She was safer in her world than mine. More than my happiness, I wanted her safe. That was the hardest battle I ever fought and I'm still fighting it. Was I wrong in choosing to not fight for her? I don't know." He straightened his shoulders and released a slow sigh. "I chose not to find out about her life, the pain would have been too great. She is probably married with grown children, grandchildren…something I could never give her…" His words faded and he sucked in a harsh breath. "The ramblings of an old man," he murmured. But it made him wonder if those same thoughts plagued Geralt. Or perhaps he was afraid she would leave when the gateway was repaired and he wanted to spare himself that pain.

"Hardly the ramblings of an old man, there is nothing wrong with wanting to keep someone you love safe," she said softly. She wondered how many people knew the real Vesemir, the man behind the harsh taskmaster mask.

He looked at her intently for a moment. "Isn't there?" he asked. "If she never found love again, then I was guilty of robbing us both of happiness. Which is worse? Being safe but miserable and alone? Or risking everything for a few moments or years of happiness?"

She looked at his cherished, weathered face. "Those are powerful and thought provoking words."

"I've had a lot of time to think on them. If I could do everything over, I wonder if I'd have made the same choice." Vesemir cleared his throat. "Thank you for the dance, but I need a drink now." He grinned. "Just let me know if you ever want to run away together," he teased.

"You wouldn't give this keep up for anyone, old man," Lambert said as he stepped in to take Vesemir's place.

"I've given up far more," he said as he walked away. He found Geralt over by the table with the liquor. He grabbed a bottle. "Grab two cups and come share a drink with me."

He turned to look at Angel and froze when he saw Lambert's hand stray to her ass. He took a step towards them when he felt a heavy hand fall on his forearm. "I'll kill him," he growled.

Vesemir sighed. "You have no say in it. She's not your wife and she can take care of herself."

"She's had too much to drink," he said shaking the restraining hand off.

He grabbed Geralt's arm again. "And is she so weak of mind that she'd just fall into Lambert's bed just because she's had a few drinks? I think we both know her better than that. And if she does choose to bed Lambert, she has that right. She has the right to bed any man she pleases, because no one has a claim on her," he pointed out. "Unless you..."

"No," Geralt answered quickly. "Let's have that drink." He stormed out of the room and sat down hard at the table that had been set up in the hall against the stairwell.

Vesemir eased himself down and poured them both a drink. He set the bottle down and looked intently at Geralt. "What's eating you, son?"

"Nothing," he groused and took a deep pull at his cup. His gaze narrowed on the old man. "Why do you keep sending me out on shitty chores with Angel?"

Interesting. "The others seem pleased when I send her out with them. They've given me no complaints. Does she not pull her own with you?" He didn't suspect that in the slightest, but he was trying to draw the man out.

"No, that's not it and you know it." He leaned forward. "You send her out with me more than the others…why?"

"So you don't like her company then?" Very curious.

Geralt frowned, tossed back his drink and poured another. "She doesn't like mine," he mumbled as he drew is finger around the rim of his cup.

Vesemir sat back on his chair and folded his arms over his chest. They were getting somewhere. "I don't believe that," he said flatly.

"I used to think," he shook his head. "She can't even stand the sight of me. Every time she sees me she turns away."

"Hmmm...and how does she act when you two are doing chores together?" He prodded.

He pulled from his cup and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Polite…good at small talk, but she keeps her distance and doesn't look at me unless were talking. Even then…she tolerates me…that's it."

Vesemir leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. "I've seen the way she looks at you when you aren't looking…it's the same way you look at her. The looks you give each other could burn down the keep."

"Sexual attraction isn't our problem. I wanted her to be my lover…it wasn't a role she was willing to accept. She wants love…marriage. I'm a witcher for fuck's sake. Witchers don't fall in love, they don't marry and they don't have families, they walk the path alone!"

Vesemir took a swig and set his cup down. "And why were these rules put into place?" he asked quietly.

He frowned at Vesemir. The old man knew damned well why. "Because the life we lead would put our families in danger. We would be gone all the time and if we are too distracted with fear for our families or mooning over our wives, it could cost us our lives…but you know that!"

Vesemir rubbed the back of his neck. "I was in love with a noblewoman. I had to leave her behind to keep her safe."

That, Geralt had not expected to hear. He was surprised the old man had admitted such a thing.

"After all these years I still wonder if I made the right choice." His gaze rose from his cup to the younger man's eyes. "But Angel isn't human. She's a witcher…Kin and she doesn't need protection. And we both know times have changed. There are fewer and fewer monsters. The need for a witcher is waning. There is no reason you can't walk the path with her."

Geralt was stunned. After everything that had been drilled into his head by the elder witchers when he was a child…was Vesemir telling him to get married? "Are you telling me to marry?"

Vesemire shook his head. "No, son. I'm telling you to think everything through and do what your heart tells you to do."

This was Vesemir talking? He didn't even know who he was, how was he to know what his heart wanted? And why should he listen to it, even if he knew? How could his heart know anything if his head wasn't on straight? "Damn it, Vesemir…she's Kin! She will leave as soon as that gateway whatever is fixed, you know that." His mouth clamped shut. Those were not the words he'd meant to say. He'd meant to remind the old man about his lack of memory.

"No, son. I don't know that. Love has fought stronger battles and won. Give her a reason to stay." He sighed. "And what if she did choose to leave? It could be months…it could be several hundred years. Death could take one or both of you by then. Nothing is guaranteed or certain. Is it better to be filled with regret and what ifs or build cherished memories with the time you have together?" He wasn't trying to push the younger man into anything, but he did want him to open his goddamned eyes so he could make a choice based on all the facts. "Real love is something most people are never lucky enough to find. Just think about it before you fuck it up."

He pushed his cup away. "I don't - "

"Don't what? Love her? You're a damned idiot, Geralt. Open your fucking eyes. Do you dream about her at night? Think about her during the day? Do you worry about her when she's not with you? When she's near do you feel content? Do you feel the need to make her happy…to make her smile for no reason? How would you feel if she chose to give herself to another?" He paused for a moment. "I've also noticed you haven't made a trip to town this winter or bedded Triss. Why is that? Is Angel the only woman you want to see in your bed? Hmmm… If you were stranded at the ass end of nowhere, never to leave, who is the one person you would want to be stranded with? If your answer to those questions is no and you can honestly say you don't love her then let her the fuck go. Take Triss to bed, stop growling at everyone and let the men court Angel in peace. If she's going to be here hundreds of years she deserves to find comfort with someone. Eskel or Davor would be a good match for her…hell, even I might…"

Geralt bolted up from his chair and it skittered backwards. He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. "No. You. Won't."

Vesemir stretched his legs out beneath the table and pulled from his drink as he watched Geralt storm back to his room. He couldn't help but wonder how the cards would fall. He'd given the man a lot to think about. He didn't have the right to tell him Angel loved him, but what was going on here had to stop one way or another, before camaraderie turned into bitter rivalry. Nothing good could come from a household of witchers courting the same woman, especially not with the wolf on edge.

He rose with a sigh and grabbed the bottle and his cup to retire to his room. He hoped the party did not last too long; the morning would come too soon.

-BREAK ONE-

"I wondered if I'd ever see you in a dress, you should wear them more often," Lambert said as he took her into his arms. He was beginning to wonder if the old man was going to occupy her time for the rest of the night.

"They are inconvenient. Riding a horse…climbing…fighting…flying, they are not conducive to anything," she pointed out.

He grinned. "They have one convenience."

She cocked a brow in disbelief. "And what would that be?"

"Take me to your room and I'll show you," he said quietly.

She blinked in confusion until his meaning dawned on her. "That's horrible."

He chuckled. "I think you meant _pleasurable_ ," he said as he slid his hand down to squeeze her ass.

She pulled his wandering hand back to her waist and returned her hand to his shoulder. She shook her head and grinned. "I said the right word, Lambert."

He shrugged. "Just let me know if you need someone to show you how wrong you are."

"Not tonight, lover boy. Talk to her tomorrow when your sober," Davor said as he spun her away from Lambert. "You are stunning as always, Angel."

Her smile was light and easy as she brushed his long, dark hair back so she could see both his eyes. "And you are ever the protective, handsome knight."

How he had missed her touch. He knew things would be different when they reached Kaer Morhen, but he hadn't counted on Geralt and their reaction to each other. He wasn't blind; he saw the looks, felt the tension between them. But he also knew he'd marry her regardless, if she'd have him, because he'd already experienced what they could have together and he knew he could make her happy. Still, he was not fooling himself. He would let her go if he had to. "There is naught this knight would not do for you, fair maiden," he grinned and waggled his brows. "Marry me and I shall title you Duchess of angels, give you a palace in the clouds, where cherubs sing and the stars twinkle at your command. The streams will sparkle with gold; the trees will whisper of your beauty and shower you with sweet, sugar plums. Fairies shall light your path and we shall dine on ambrosia." His tone may have been teasing, but there was much truth to his words. His castle did have cherub statues with intricately placed holes that played sweet music when the wind blew through them. When it rained the castle was wreathed in fog clouds, the streams actually did sparkle with the golden flakes that could be found in it. He had a plum tree grove and fairy statues that held lit scones lined the walkway to the gardens. And if she married him, she would indeed be his duchess.

"Oh, sweet knight, you shall make me swoon," she teased with the back of her hand against her forehead. "Promise me that we will ride unicorns over rainbows and dance among the stars and I shall wed you tomorrow if.."

Geralt froze, the blood in his veins turned to ice. He had come back to the party because he needed to speak with Angel only to hear her say she would marry Davor. The pain that sliced through him was white hot and deep. It nearly brought him to his knees and that he hadn't expected. Torture would be preferable. "No!" he said in a voice harsh with pain. He forced one foot in front of the other, torn by the need to fight for what he wanted and by the need to flee from the pain…run until his body gave out. He didn't know what kind of man he used to be, but it didn't feel like running was something he did very often…if at all.

He placed his hand on her forearm. "We need to talk." He glanced at Davor and then back to her. "Alone." He felt her stiffen beneath his hand, but he wasn't going to let her back away, not after what he'd heard.

Davor's mouth opened to refute what Geralt thought he heard but then shut with only a hiss of breath. He didn't like Angel being alone with a man of Geralt's reputation, but this game they'd been dancing around for so long needed closure one way or another. He bowed to the pair and excused himself. He could feel her gaze burning into his back, but she needed this confrontation as much as he needed her to have it.

"Geralt," she said taking a step back.

He could hear the tremor in her voice but took a step towards her, not allowing her to break contact. "Not this time, Syn. We need to talk."

The fact that he'd used her real name did not fall on deaf ears. So the talk would either be serious or important, perhaps both. "If we were a couple that would concern me," she quipped trying to get back the levity that had just fled.

He tilted his head slightly and cocked a brow. "Why?"

She sighed. "Ah, Ger…'we need to talk' almost always implies…hey Eskel, what does 'we need to talk' mean to you?"

There was a chorus of 'break ups' and she grinned. "See?"

Geralt grunted. She had him there. He couldn't recall ending a relationship, but then he didn't recall much. "I can hardly say we don't need to talk, when, in fact, we do. Come with me."

She could feel the heat of his hand pressed against her back as he guided her out the door. She could also feel the apprehension grow. It doubled when they reached the stairs that led to her bedroom. She planted her feet and refused to budge. "Geralt, I can't do this…I can't go up there with you."

Nor could he let her slip away again. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No. Yes." That sounded silly even to her, but it was much more complicated than that.

"Why?" he asked incredulously. "I've never raised a hand to you…except when we are sparring…even then – I would never hurt you."

Her golden hair swayed with the shake of her head. "Not intentionally, but pain comes in many forms, Ger."

He sighed and looked away before his gaze moved back to her. He had no defense against an imagined pain. "I'm asking you to trust me, Syn. I won't touch you unless you ask me to." He couldn't believe he'd just said that; all he could do was hope he could live up to it.

She absently watched her fingers play with the fabric of the gown she still wore. "That's what I'm afraid of."

This was making no sense to him. "You're afraid I won't touch you or I will?"

"Both." She shook her head again. That too sounded ridiculous.

He felt like he was chasing his tail. "I really don't want to have this conversation at the bottom of the stairs for everyone to hear." He gave her a slight nudge with his hand to get her moving again. When they reached her room he shut the door and walked over to the fireplace to put a couple of more logs on the fire. He then settled himself on the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. "Will you tell me what you meant by _both_?"

She joined him on the sofa but sat against the opposite arm. She picked at a tiny piece of lint on her dress, unable to look at him while she spoke. "I fear myself more than you. Whenever I see you or hear your voice or smell your scent my body ripens. I yearn for the feel of your hands skimming my flesh, the magic of your lips and tongue, the feel of you filling my empty, aching…" she shivered. "So, yes, I fear myself. You are my weakness and I am helpless against what you make me feel." Her throat was tight and she'd had to force the last few words out.

That was a brutally honest answer and one he had not expected from her. He released a ragged breath when his body responded to her words. He slipped his hands under his thighs to keep them from reaching out to her. "That is why you cannot look at me or be around me. Why you refuse to be alone with me," he said thickly. It wasn't a question, nor did it need an answer. But it did help him to make sense of her reactions to him. "It is no easier for me."

She clenched her jaw to keep her head from turning to look at him. "Yes, Ger, it is. You would be content to take what you want and move on. While I'm trying to preserve…"

"Your innocence?" he asked quietly. When he saw her stiffen he knew she'd taken it wrong, or hell, he'd probably said it wrong. "I don't mean that the way it sounded. I wasn't mocking you or trying to hurt you. I know I took your innocence, but I didn't take the meaning or will behind it. And don't tell me what I would be content with, only I know that." He rose from the sofa and knelt down in front of her, one hand on the sofa's arm the other next to her hip. His body trembled with the need to touch her, but he'd given her his word and he would damned well try to keep it. "Look at me."

No, no…she couldn't …wouldn't. When he knelt in front of her only a sheer force of will kept her on the sofa, because every warning bell inside of her was going off. She could feel the heat of his body and her hands clenched in her lap. Her greedy fingers wanted to touch him and pull him close.

"Syn…look at me."

She squeezed her eyes tighter and shook her head. "I can't, Ger, if I do I'll be lost."

He couldn't bear that her voice was so tight and childlike. But the cagey old man had been right about a lot of things. This conversation was long overdue. "Please..." he said softly.

The deep huskiness of his voice slid down her spine in a shiver. She released a slow breath and opened her eyes, her gaze slowly rising to meet his. Her breath caught in her throat as she fell into the heat that burned in his eyes. She was drowning and she couldn't look away.

He doubted she realized just what she was doing, but he felt it keenly…the soft, gentle caress of her fingertips as they caressed his face. He wanted to close his eyes and savor her touch, but he knew if he broke eye contact her apprehension would return. The hard part was forcing out the words, not only because they went against all his years of training but also because the passion in her liquid, silver eyes was making it hard to think. "I..uh.." No. That wasn't the way to start this. "Vesemir asked me if I was stranded at the ass end of nowhere, never to leave, who would I want to be stranded with? I thought about that. For a few months I could probably handle being with Lambert, Leo, Vesemir or Davor. But after that Lambert and I would likely kill each other, Leo would annoy me, the old man would drive me insane with all his lectures and Davor would likely bore me until I chose to take my chances with the ocean or the dessert or whatever horror surrounded me."

"What of Eskel?" she asked forcing herself to focus on what he was telling her.

Her hands had slipped through his hair and loosened the band that held it back. Like a starving man he needed more. "He is like a brother to me. I think we would do well for many years, but eventually….there is only so much strain the sibling bond can take."

"And Triss?" she asked softly.

"I, well…I'm not even sure I could handle being stranded with her for a few months. I don't trust sorceresses and I don't want to be stranded with someone I can't trust."

She fell silent. That left only her. Did she even want to know what he felt about her? No, it was best she didn't know. She didn't need the pain. It sounded like Eskel was the best option for him to be stranded with. Wait – why were they even talking about this? What was the point? "It sounds like Eskel is the best choice to be stranded with, but why are you telling me this?"

"Shhh…this is important. Whomever I'm stranded with, I'd have to enjoy their company, they'd have to stimulate my mind and challenge my body. We'd have to be able to rely on each other for our survival, so I have to know they'd have my back in any situation. I'd have to trust them completely with both my thoughts and my life. There is only one person I know that I would want to be stranded with for the rest of my life. There is only one face I want to wake up to every morn. Yours. The only person I want to be stranded with is the woman I - " He released a breath. "I – I love you, Syn." The words felt alien on his tongue as if he didn't say them often, but it didn't negate what he felt.

Her heart flipped over in her chest as her world took a sharp turn. She spread her knees so he could move closer and pulled his head to her chest to hold him to her. Those three words changed everything and nothing. She still wouldn't be his lover, so her battle with herself just became a lot harder, because she'd have let him get close to her. But she would forsake her home and her family to stay here with him. "I love you, Ger. My home is with you, in your world, until your love for me fades." That was all she could promise him.

He was staggered by the weight of her words and what they meant to him. She would give up everything she knew and loved to stay with him. His biggest fear fell to dust. Pressed against her chest he could feel the hard racing of her heart. Her body trembled as badly as his own. It was obvious the raw emotion of baring heart and soul whipped through her as it did him. He pulled back enough to look at her. "Then be my wife…I want us bound in every way possible. I can't – don't leave..." He was going to say,'I can't lose you', but his throat had tightened up too much to get those words out.

She didn't even think to ask him if he was sure. She knew him well enough to know that like _I love you_ this was not something he'd say unless he was absolutely sure. "Then bound we will be, husband," she murmured, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell from her eyes.

Husband…something he never thought he'd hear. A title he never knew he wanted...until he was saved by an angel. He needed to hold her, kiss her tears away, but he couldn't. "Let me touch you," he said in a strangled voice.

She had forgotten all about the pledge he'd made. This whole time, it had been she who had been touching him. "I'm sorry. I forgot – touch me. I will always need your touch."

With a groan of relief he slipped his arms around her. He kissed the trails of tears on her cheeks before seeking the heat of her mouth. Despite the hunger that clawed at him he kept the kiss tender. He wanted her to feel his love, not just his need. When he felt their clothing fade he pulled back and forced himself not to look down. "No," he said in a strangled voice. "I will wait until we are wed."

That more than anything told her what kind of man he could be. She clothed them once more. "Then find a way because I want you in my bed every night." To her they were already wed. Kin mated for life and all it took was a declaration for them to be bound as mates. Marriage must be handled different here.

He rose on shaky legs. "Yes, ma'am," he said hoarsely as he bolted from the room. It wasn't a very manly exit, but he was pushing the bounds of his restraint. He pounded on Vesemir's door. He heard grumbling from within and the old man opened the door in nothing but his skin. "Are you trying to blind me, old man?"

"You're the one pounding on my door, waking me from my sleep. Serves you right," he groused. "What do you want?"

"You dressed, for one," he said dryly. "How did you know I wasn't Triss or Angel?"

Vesemir grunted as he pulled his pants on. "Women don't try to break my door down. Now what did you want, Wolf?" he asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

"I need to find out how to get married," he admitted.

Vesemir grinned. "I'll be damned. Thought for sure you'd end up with Yen again."

Why did that name almost sound familiar? "Who's Yen?" Geralt asked. Sometimes he felt like a blind man feeling his way through the dark.

Vesemir sighed; he should never have brought her up. "She is a cold-hearted sorceress you were involved with off and on for several years. She treated you like shit and _you_ let her. I never understood what you saw in her." He rubbed his hands over his face, but he couldn't wipe the memories away.

Geralt shook his head. "I don't remember her. I feel like I should, but I don't. And I don't know why I would ever – I get the feeling I don't even like sorceresses on the whole." He shrugged. "Triss is okay for a sorceress, from what I've seen recently, but I could never fully trust her."

"Wise man….now. Wolf, what makes you think I know a damned thing about marriage? I've never been – hmmm…go to town and find a church, I suppose…"

Geralt grunted. "Right. I don't know of any church that would marry witchers."

"You have a point there, son." Vesemir scratched his head for a moment. " – Wait…there is a custom used in places where the church doesn't exist or villages that are too far from town. It's a simple binding witnessed by at least one other. I can record it in Kaer Morhen's ledger to validate it."

"Fine. What is needed for this binding?"

"A long, thin cloth or cord should work. From what I remember it is woven around your hands, binding them together and then knotted."

"How long?" he asked the older man. He didn't think she'd much appreciate him using the bushes with her tied to him.

"I don't know," Vesemir shrugged. "Only heard about it in passing, but I would imagine it depends on the culture. Maybe until the marriage is consummated? Just – well, don't destroy whatever you use to bind you in public…I think that means the end of the marriage. Then there are the rings."

"Rings?" his voice caught on the word. He didn't have any rings. "We really should have a blacksmith here," he grumbled.

Vesemir chuckled. "They aren't the important part and can be given at any time. Most peasants don't have them because they can't afford them. But it does show to everyone who sees it that you are married and it is supposed to signify a love that never ends…or so I've been told. But I've also seen them on noble children as a sign of betrothal," he said with a shrug. "Most rings I've seen are engraved with symbols or words that mean something to the couple or the culture."

"Do you know which finger it is worn on?" he asked curiously.

"I'm not sure it matters. Seen it on a few different fingers. Though, I suggest your left hands, since you are both right handed. Hmm..if I recollect correctly, seems the finger next to the small one is a little more common. That's about all I know," he said with a shrug.

"It's enough." He started to turn away and then stopped. "Will you do this…the binding...tonight? Now?"

Vesemir tilted his head. "Why the rush?"

Geralt cleared his throat. "I told her I would…uh…wait."

The old man laughed like he hadn't in a long time. Somewhere along the line he'd stopped thinking of the boys as students and started thinking of them as sons. And this son had just backed himself into a corner of his own making. "Yes, I'll do it. Your balls have been blue long enough."

"Not as long as yours," he teased the old man.

"Tell me about it," Vesemir said with a grunt.

Geralt grabbed the door frame and turned to look at the old man once more. "And you will not be running away with my wife."

Vesemir grinned. "I will try to refrain."

"See to it," he said gruffly and then smiled as he turned away from the old man. He caught sight of Davor coming down the stairs that led to Angel's room. The pain etched in the man's face was hard to see. He did not feel smug that he had won; their roles could have been reversed so easily. He had a glimpse of what the man was going through when he'd heard Angel tell Davor that she would marry him. He hadn't known then that it was only teasing banter; the pain had been very real. He actually felt for the man's suffering.

Davor looked up when he heard footsteps. He forced the pain back, it was private and he had no intension of sharing it. He squared his shoulders and approached his old friend. "We told Angel we would bow out if her heart lay elsewhere and so we shall. But if you ever dishonor her with other women or hurt her in any way, all bets are off. Are we clear?"

We? Interesting. It was obvious by the way Davor spoke and acted that he had been nobility, but now he wondered if the man had been, in fact, Royal. There was a nagging familiarity in his looks that he'd assumed was just because he used to know the man, but perhaps he was familiar for another reason. Instead of mocking his use of _we_ as he would normally do, he said simply, "As crystal."

Davor inclined his head and stepped around Geralt. After a few paces he stopped. "Congratulations," he said in a strained voice before continuing on to Triss' room. He didn't like to be the bearer of bad news, but she had a right to know, even if he was none too pleased that she'd told Angel who he was. She probably did it out of desperation, hoping Angel would be swayed by being his duchess but Angel wasn't that kind of a woman and Triss' gamble didn't pay off. His heart would not be the only one breaking this eve.

Geralt stared after the man for a moment. Davor's ultimatum was far more generous than his own would have been. Whatever the man's birthright had been, it was unfortunate he'd been robbed of it. The man had more fairness and honor in him than most.

He took the stares two at a time, once at the top he caught sight of Angel pacing. She turned when she heard him and he caught a strained look on her face before it was wreathed in smiles. She all but flew into his arms, not that he minded. He moved them away from the stairwell. "Was your talk with Davor difficult?" he asked quietly.

Why had he thought that? "No, he was as charming and understanding as ever." She knew her friend was hurting, but she also knew he's never let it show. Her heart ached for him, but there was nothing she could do.

"Fine then. What was bothering you?" he asked not taking his eyes from her.

She did not want to lie to him, but nor did she feel right about telling him the truth. This was her issue. "Nothing you can help with. It's something I need to deal with on my own."

He did not like hearing that. "You don't trust me?"

"It has nothing to do with trust." She looked away from him. "I won't be a burden to you. I'll deal with it." Somehow.

What did she mean by that? "Deal with what?" He put his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. "I don't want any secrets between us, Angel."

She released a slow breath. "It's not a secret, Ger. It's personal. If you were Kin…" She shook her head. "My problem would only be a burden to you…I'll manage. Did you come back to say goodnight?"

His gaze narrowed. "Don't change the subject. Marriage is a partnership, even I know that. That means problems are shared not hoarded away. We'll solve it together. And don't decide what a burden is for me. Start talking."

She closed her eyes briefly before her gaze returned to his. "Kin mate for life. So long as you are alive, there can be no one else for me…" She wasn't sure how to explain the problem properly. He would have no concept, he could never truly understand.

That was a relief not a burden. He didn't want to lose her to someone else. "You think because I'm not Kin that I'll leave you for another?"

"What?" she asked in surprise. "No, I hadn't even considered that." This time it was she that had no concept. But he was right. She was bound to him on a deeper level than he was to her, because their physiology was different.

Way to go, Geralt. Give her doubts she hadn't had before. If he could kick himself he would. "Good, because you would have nothing to worry about. I may not know my past, but I know what we have is...hard to find and I'm not about to fuck it up." Damn, he probably could have said that better.

"I believe in you. But you need to understand. Despite the consequences to me, straying is against the very nature of a mate bond, it's not even possible with Kin. I understand you won't feel the mate bond as I do, but it is not something I could ever forgive." It would shatter her in a way he could never understand.

How could he think of another when he couldn't get enough of her? "You are the only woman I want in my bed. But if that is not the problem, what is and what consequences are you talking about?"

"The problem is the consequences. It's part of the mate bond and it's harder to explain and even more difficult for someone else to understand. That's why I didn't want to talk about it. Are you sure you won't just let you go? It's a species thing, nothing more." She had to try.

His eyes narrowed and he just stared at her silently.

"Damn it, Geralt." She backed away from him to stand in front of the fireplace. She stared into the flames until she felt his arms encircle her from behind. She released a slow, defeated breath. "When we take a mate our physiology changes. I don't honestly know how to explain the changes, that wasn't my field of study; I just know the results of the changes. Mates become inseparable. But it is more than just wanting to be with your mate. The bond goes too deep. It does not allow separation. If they are not together they will suffer mental and physical pain, the longer the separation or the greater the distance, the more severe the consequences. Since you are not Kin, it is a burden to you and that is why it is my problem to deal with. There is nothing you can do to help me with this. It is my battle."

He had not been expecting that, but he supposed it would be one of the many things he still had to learn about her species. If he had not thought to ask her…he would have hurt her repeatedly without ever knowing it. The thought of hurting her was like the cold bite of a knife in his flesh. "When I went downstairs it hurt you?"

She shook her head. "Not…not in the way that you think. I could still feel you. It was discomfort or apprehension at most." She turned around and placed her hands against his chest. "I'll work on it."

His lips tugged into a small grin. "How can you work on something you have no control over?" He brushed his lips against her forehead. "We'll walk the path together and I have no intension of letting you out of my sight." She might not need his protection, but that didn't stop the need to protect his wife. "Know this, if something does separate us I will raze hell, heaven and every town in between to find you. Nothing is going to keep me from you."

The tone of his words sent a shiver down her spine. She had no doubt that he meant every last one. Her hand rose to his cheek. "We are bound by blood – If anything happens…I will find you, no matter where you are." She slipped her hand behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss. There was a sense of freedom at being able to do something she had fought for so long. He was hers…she no longer had to fight the pull, she could give into it.

He drew back and released a ragged breath. He couldn't stop his body's trembling, but he had to halt this while he still had the power to do so. After months of denial, his hunger for her was ravenous. Knowing he could have her made the fight all the harder. "We need a long, thin cloth or cord. Vesemir will bind us in marriage." His tone was rough, but there was little he could do about that, not when his body was alive with a need that threatened to blot out reason.

She blinked with the absence of his heat, his words slowly filtered through. She would honor his customs; marry him as his laws demanded. Thin cord or band of cloth. Her gaze settled on the post of her bed. There was a thin, gold, woven cord that ended with tassels holding the gauzy curtains in place against the post. She held out her hand and created another. "Will this work?"

He looked down at the golden cord in her hand. He would never be able to see gold without thinking of his woman with her thick waves of golden hair, large, golden eyes, and creamy, pearl-like, iridescent skin. In direct sunlight or moonlight the reflection off her skin gave away the fact that she was more than human. He took the golden cord, wrapped it around her waist and knotted it loosely. "It should work fine. The only thing we are missing are the rings, we'll get those when we can. Are you ready?"

"Wait – rings? What kind of rings? Earrings? Finger rings? Toe rings? Belly rings?" she grinned over the last one. She could have listed more, but few of her kind wore any piercings much less the more outlandish ones. Anything that pierced the flesh was not desirable; it obstructed the flow of energy, though she knew a couple of individuals that wore such in private. Even their earrings were intricate cuffs that hugged their ears and often had jewels dangling from it.

His brows drew together. "Belly rings?" How could anyone wear a ring in their belly?

She removed the cloth of her dress on her belly -and materialized one at the top of her navel.

He sucked in his breath when he caught sight of the jewelry that dangled seductively. The black chain was iridescent and the gem that hung from it seemed alive with fire. He swallowed. "Keep that on but cover it." He cleared his throat when material covered her belly once more. "Finger rings. On this one," he said as he pointed to the finger next to his small one on his left hand.

She took his hand between hers and ran her thumb over the finger and a black, iridescent ring appeared.

The ring she'd put on his finger was so light he barely felt it, but it had a warmth of its own as if it were alive and he could feel a slight hum coming from it, or at least that is what he equated it with. He watched the ring began to glow as etchings were engraved on it. He didn't know what the symbols stood for but they were beautiful. The engravings themselves were gold against the fiery black of the ring. "What does it mean?"

She felt the heat of her blush sting her cheeks. "They are words of the heart, health, longevity, love…I wanted a part of my world in our wedding." She made a similar ring, albeit blank, appear on her own finger. "Do you want me to put anything on it?" she asked softly.

"I want them identical," he couldn't imagine anything more beautiful than what was engraved on his ring.

She blinked. What she'd engraved on his ring was very personal, from her heart and soul. "I can, but…"

He drew his fingertips slowly down her cheek. "Do it…please." A flare of light drew his gaze down and he saw the engravings fire across her ring. He took her hand and drew his thumb across the ring, warm...just like his. "What is it made of?"

"A type of mineral found only in my home sector. Its – er…properties are vastly different than anything you are familiar with. Due to one of the engravings the properties have become malleable. You must name it…define those properties." She knew that had to sound crazy to him, but the ring was bound to him, only he could define it.

He shook his head. This was so far out of the realm of anything he knew that he was at a loss. "I don't even know what that means," he admitted. He may not know what she was talking about there was one thing he did suspect. "It's alive," he said looking down at the ring on his finger. He jumped when he felt the brief restriction around his finger. His eyes rose to her in shock.

A wary grin pulled slowly at her lips. "Everything is infused with life, but I do not think many...if any, feel it here. If they did, perhaps they would not be so eager to kill it." She looked around her room. "It is why I chose not to keep any of the original furnishings. It was devoid of life, empty and cold," she said with a shudder. "I'm surprised you felt it before it alerted you. Yes, it is alive…sentient even, in a way. That is why it must be named...defined."

He understood that trees and plants were alive, in a sense. They were born, grew and died like any other being. And by her way of thinking he could understand that wood was dead, since the tree was no longer alive. "I can't comprehend your world, but understand most of what you are saying. What I don't understand is what you mean by define. How do I define a ring?"

She chuckled self-consciously. "I should have explained better. The name you give it defines its properties. Say you named the ring viper; it could become its namesake when you need it to. Though tiny in size, its venom would kill quickly, though only on your command. It would reappear on your finger; no matter how far away it was, if you called out its name." She covered her mouth but couldn't stop the giggle. "I would be careful in the name you give it; after all, naming it little shit would give you no benefit."

What she was saying was just too hard to believe. It sounded like magic, but his medallion was only warm – as it ever was when she was around. But her last words…he pictured his ring turning into a few rat droppings and burst out laughing. He groaned at the pain in his belly and wiped his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that. It felt good, even if it hurt. He took a few deep breaths so he could talk without giggles sneaking out, because he had no intension of giggling, not even in front of his woman. "I did not think you would ever use such a ring."

His laughter warmed her heart. Prior to this she'd never heard anything more than a dry chuckle. "I wouldn't. We usually use them for scouting or eavesdropping. When transformed it can understand language, but unfortunately, it's only form of communication is restriction or squeezing: One for yes, two for no, and three for maybe. Limited, but if you ask the right questions, you can learn what you need from it."

"But it understood me and it is only a ring right now."

"True," she said. "But it was made for you…it imprinted on you when I created it. It is bound to you. It will not function for anyone else. And you're right, it has no sight or ears in ring from, but it felt the vibrations of your speech and let you know you were right…or at least I presume it did."

He nodded. "It did. How does it think or comprehend without a brain?"

She grinned. She knew he would never be able to understand, he could not comprehend her world without experiencing it or studying a lot of new concepts. "The mineral is infused with dark matter particles that-"

He held up his hand and shook his head. "Stop. I get it. It's over my head." He sighed and mulled over a name, but he could not come up with anything better. "How do I give it a name?"

"Simply touch the ring and tell it its name," she said motioning towards the ring.

He felt a little silly, but was it really any different than naming a sword or a ship? He touched the warm ring. "I name you Viper." There was an odd wriggling sensation and he stared in awe as a tiny snake began to form, outside of the gold engravings that remained the band developed scales and a triangular head that appeared to be biting its own tail. When scales grew over the top of the engravings it released its tail and wriggled up to the topside of his finger. He gently slid a finger down its back; he could feel the rough scaling, but noticed that it did not breathe. So it did not actually turn into a live reptile, it just functioned as one. He wondered how that worked. Nope. He wouldn't go there. He knew he wouldn't understand. Some things just had to be accepted. "Fascinating." Hmmm…I wonder… "Can you look like a snake ring but with the engravings showing?" The little viper nodded its head and wrapped around his finger again. It slid its tail into its mouth between its fangs, removed the scales covering the engravings and hardened itself into a ring. "That's fucking amazing."

A soft laugh slipped from her lips. For just a moment she could picture him as little boy with a new toy. What was normal for her she now saw with new eyes. "Yes, it is." She looked down at her own ring and ran a finger over the band. "Liitu," she said softly.

He looked up at her in confusion. "What is a liitu?"

"Watch." The band shimmered and two sets of wings pulled out from its sides, the skin on the lower part of its wings was an iridescent gold. Fine, black tinted fur lined the top of its head down to the tip of its long muzzle and along the upper half of the wings; it grew more plush down its back and then thinned again over its tail. Its underbelly and under tail were lined with golden, iridescent scales, which matched the lower webbing of its wings. Its torso was slender, snake-like and it had four tiny, stubby legs. The soles of its three toed feet were padded. The back feet had a bent rear digit, similar to that of a bird, but were fleshy and padded like the tiny hands. Its eyes were large and pale gold in color. It flicked out its long, thin, dexterous tongue and flapped its dual set of wings, each pair moving independently of each other. "Move to my palm, Liitu."

She held her hand up, fingers pointing towards the ceiling. The tiny thing fluttered around her hand and settled onto the middle of her palm. It spread its wings out flat against her palm and disappeared.

"Son of a – where did it go?" he asked stunned.

She grinned. "She is still on my palm; she can just blend into her surroundings. Normally, Liittus are a deep bluish-purple color with peach coloring along the reptilian parts and about the size of a rat in length." She shuddered. "Though obviously much prettier. They feed on pollen and nectar. They often hang from their tail to sleep and their little feet can stick to anything they land on. They are very remarkable."

Yes, they were. But there was one thing he wouldn't let slide. He cocked a brow. "She?"

Syntl blushed. "Liitu, ring please." There was little more than a shimmer when it lifted off her palm, its body instantly blending to its surroundings. It reappeared on her finger, wrapped around it, pulled its wings in and settled it tail over its muzzle to become a band once more. She cleared her throat. "If they can call a ship a _she_ then I can call Liitu a she."

He chuckled and brushed his lips over hers. "You are right. And we are late for our own wedding. I'm sure he thinks we decided to consummate it first," he teased.

"Tsk-tsk…you are far too much the gentleman to ever ruin a virgin bride," she said pointedly.

He grunted. "Ouch…your fangs sink deep."

"Aren't you the witty one," she teased dryly. "But I don't recall hearing you complain."

He shivered when she skimmed her nail slowly down his neck. He took her hand and clasped it in his. "Come on. Let's get this over with so I can have my way with you," he said as he pulled her towards the stairs.

She grinned and rolled her eyes. "Your romantic words make my heart flutter."

He squeezed her hand. "Have mercy, Angel. I'm a starving man."

"Should we stop by the kitchen first?" she teased mercilessly.

"Woman, if you keep this up…" he groused.

"Fine," she said with a smirk and flashed to Vesemir's door.

He blinked and sighed. "At least that was better than a portal," he mumbled. And if it got him where he wanted to be faster…but the voices coming from downstairs alerted him to the fact that Vesemir was no longer in his room.

Everyone, it seemed, had moved from Triss' room to downstairs. He cornered Vesemir. "We're ready." He thought they'd slip away for a few minutes to get it done, so he was caught off guard when Vesemir did the unexpected.

"The Wolf is ready to marry his bride," Vesemir said in a raised voice. "Places everyone!"

Syntl was surprised when Lambert came to stand by her side. Her gaze flitted to Davor. It was him she would have wanted at her side, but understood why he couldn't be there. She caught Davor's small smile. His eyes shined with love and something more, but she didn't have a right to look deeper. She inclined her head to him. She appreciated that he was willing to be here for her at this time, but she also knew what it cost him.

"Why are you standing next to my bride?" Geralt growled.

Lambert shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm her bride's maid because I'm not in love with her… I only want to bed her." He watched Geralt's eyes close and knew the man was fighting the need to deck him and he couldn't blame him. He felt a hard jab to his ribs and looked down at Angel. For a brief moment he was drowning in her liquid silver eyes. He did want to bed her, but he also knew it was more than that. Angel was his calming balm. She had peeled back his prickly defense long ago, knew him better than anyone. Since he'd gotten to know her the pain that ate at him had lessened. And when he was with her it was gone all together, replaced by a warmth he'd never experienced before. He stiffened and got hold of himself. "What?"

She was not blind to the maelstrom of raw emotion that roiled beneath his gaze before he shuttered his thoughts. "Liar," she mouthed. With one corner of his lips lifting and the barest nod he confirmed her silent accusation. Pretending he didn't care was one of her friend's biggest defenses, right up there next to his caustic attitude. But she knew he cared far deeper than he wanted to about a great many things. "Thank you," she said quietly. "And behave."

Eskel sighed and moved to stand beside Geralt. He would show his brother support, even if he wished he were in his shoes. He clapped Geralt on the back. "Ignore him; he's only trying to bait you."

"I know," he grumbled.

Vesemir cleared his throat. "Do you have the material needed?"

Geralt turned to his bride, slipped the thin, golden cord from her waist and handed it to the old man.

Vesemir took the cord and grinned. Fitting as it reminded him of Angel. "Clasp your hands and hold them out." He watched as their fingers laced. When they held out their hands he folded the cord in half so that there was a loop at the top and the tassels hung together at the bottom. He dropped the loop over the top of their hands between their wrists. "This cord symbolizes your agreement to wed." He tucked the tassels through the loop and tightened it. "Your pledge of love to each other." He brought the two halves over the tops of their hands and then looped one around each of their wrists. He tied the two halves together to make them one. He placed his hand over theirs. "You are bound together in love as you are in life. May your path be long." He stepped back from the pair. "Seal the bind with a kiss."

Vesemir released a breath as their lips met. He hadn't known what to say. It was certainly something he never thought he'd be doing. But he didn't think he fucked it up. He glanced around the room and noticed either heads were turned or eyes were closed. He was the only one to witness their kiss. So be it. At least they stayed to show their support. And maybe now things can get back to normal.

Geralt released her lips and his gaze slid slowly down her face. He felt like his world had turned hard to port. This breathtaking woman was his wife. His wife. She could have chosen anyone. Davor was hands down the best looking man he'd ever seen. He was cultured, charming, a nobleman and most likely Royal. The rigging for his gelding showed he wasn't a man in need of coin and he was as lily-white as a knight could be. Yet she refused Davor to marry him. Husband. Him. It was still almost more than he could comprehend, but he couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He didn't recall much of his past, but he had the present and now he had a future that he never thought possible.

"Congratulations, brother," Eskel said as he clapped him on the back before heading to the table where his empty tankard begged to be refilled. He caught sight of Davor trying to cheer up Triss. When the man shook his head and walked away from the sorceress, he downed his mead, set his tankard on the table and decided to see what he could do. He knew what it was like to want someone that could never be yours.

"You're a lucky bastard, wolf. Don't fuck it up," Lambert warned and turned away. He wanted Angel to be happy and not just because he liked her. She had lost more than he had. She lost more than just her home, she lost her world. He respected that. He respected her. Despite what she lost, it didn't cost her who she was. She put on a smile and made the best of it; being around her made him want to be that kind of man, but wanting to let go and being able to were entirely different beasts. So was letting go of the jealously that threatened to suffocate him. He never wanted to be a witcher, he wanted a wife...a family…and Geralt, a man who wanted neither, married the only woman who had ever eased his soul and made him feel normal. Fuck it! Mead is better than pity any day, at least until the morning after.

Lambert sat at the table, sprawled on a chair, and absently stroked Boo's large head while he nursed his mead and watched the Eskel and Merigold show. He had expected the sorceress to press Davor into helping her forget the wolf. Maybe she had, if so, the man had clearly escaped that noose. But Eskel? It looked like Eskel might just hang tonight. For the briefest moment he thought of intervening, but in the end he poured himself another mug of ale. He saw Angel hugging the old man out of the corner of his eye before his attention was caught by the man sitting down next to him.

"Mind if I join you for a drink or ten?" Davor asked.

He grabbed the bottle and pushed it in Davor's direction. "Drink up…misery loves company."

Davor grimaced. "I can always count on your wit," he said as he filled his tankard.

"What can I say? I'm dependable that way," he said with a sardonic smile. He took a large gulp and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You barely avoided the noose."

He looked over at Lambert in surprise. Though he tried to hide it...it was obvious the witcher had a soft spot for Angel. What he said made no sense. "I do not consider Angel a noose."

"Not Angel," Lambert said with a shake of his head. "Merigold." He pointed over at Triss and Eskel. When Davor only grunted he cocked a brow. "Do you regret turning her down?"

He refused to talk about anything Triss might have said to him. "My heart is entangled."

"Right…Davor the white knight shall not bed a woman until he can let go of his love for another. A noble sacrifice but stupid." His bleary eyes strayed to see Angel and Garret disappear into the kitchen heading for the stairwell to her room. "He doesn't deserve her innocence."

"And you do?" Leo asked as he settled in a chair next to the other men.

"That's not the point," he said as he tilted his head to look at Leo. He sighed and looked back to where Eskel and marigold had been. Where – ah, of course. "Eskel has the right idea," he said motioning to the other pair that was heading towards the kitchen. "Only two ways to drown your sorrows… alcohol and women." He rose unsteadily to his feet. "Let us ride and conquer the inn! Women and wine await!"

Davor rolled his eyes, grasped Lambert's arm and pulled him back down into his chair. "You can conquer the inn tomorrow; you're in no condition to ride this eve."

Lambert dropped his head to the table to rest the side of his face on it. "The white knight loses to the white wolf and still has the balls to be my father." He groaned. "Didn't mean that knight, you're better than my father." He grinned and held a finger to his lips. "I like you, brother. Just don't tell the knight that. It's our secret." His heavy lids lowered.

Davor looked over at Leo and rose. "Will you help me get him to bed?"

Leo drained his mug and sat it down. He stretched when he stood up and then took Lambert's other arm and pulled it around his neck. "A soft bed sounds pretty good right now."

Lambert pulled his heavy head up as they started to move. "I love you guys, you know that?"

"We know," Leo said quietly. "And you will love your bed even more in a few minutes."

They took the opposite stairwell that led to the second wing. "Angel has been busy over here," Davor remarked.

"Isn't she beautiful? The rats are gone," Lambert said with a sniffle.

Leo cleared his throat. "She even drained the standing water and repaired the leaks. There is a whole new section under the keep to explore. I haven't gotten very far down there, there is still a lot of work to be done, but the part I did see looked like a prison. There are cells down there. I wonder what they were used for?" Leo asked with a shudder.

"Every castle has its dungeon. Perhaps you found Kaer Morhen's. Just be careful down there, Leo, and don't go down without Angel or Triss until we know the stone is stable and won't crumble upon your head," Davor warned. But it was more than that. He wondered if nature flooded that section of the castle or if it had been flooded for some more nefarious reason. Vesemir was the only one left that might know the answer to that and he intended to find out.

Lambert dragged his head up and peered through bleary eyes. "The white knight has spoken and I agree. Don't want to lose you to a pile of rubble."

Leo rolled his eyes. He wanted to say he could take care of himself. But without being able to sign properly he was at a disadvantage and he knew it. "Fine, dads, I won't go alone. Never intended to."

They rolled Lambert onto his bed. "Get some sleep, brother."

"G'night, knight," Lambert mumbled with a giggle. "…night, son…" his words barely escaped his lips before sleep overtook him.

"He's so much more agreeable when he's drunk," Leo said with a grin. He raised a hand to cover his mouth when he yawned. "See ya in the morn, _knight_."

Davor shook his head and waved as the young man left. Knight. Not bad as nicknames go. Maybe he should keep it. If people thought of him as a knight, they would not think to look higher. It might even work on the nobility that weren't too familiar with his parents. Nobility was notorious for not seeing past the title to what lay beneath. He spotted a bucket in the corner and set it beside the bed, just in case. With a final look at the sleeping man he hurried back downstairs. There was one thing he intended to do before he went to bed. He was changing rooms with Geralt and he wasn't even going to ask first. His room was a short cut to her room and there was no reason for him to go to her room anymore. In fact, Geralt would undoubtedly approve of his decision and if he didn't, he'd get over it.

Thankfully, there wasn't a whole lot for him to move. Neither of them had much to call their own, armor, weapons, and a few changes of clothing. The last thing he changed was the bedding. With a satisfied groan he fell into his new bed and gave into the exhaustion.

-BREAK TWO-

The next morning came too soon. Much to Davor's disappointment Eskel turned down going into town with the boys. The why of it was no surprise. And without Eskel's more level headed supervision Lambert and Leo were far more likely to get themselves into trouble. Not to say they would, but better safe than sorry. And that was how he found himself saddling Spook after breakfast.

If they spared the horses it would take them a couple of days to reach the cabin at the edge of Kaer Morhen's property. They'd spend the night there and then head into town. All in all, the journey would take bare minimum a week, maybe two if the boys wanted more time to sow their oats or just weren't eager to hit the trail again so soon. This was probably their only chance this winter to be away from the keep. With spring coming the snow was already beginning to melt. They'd all need to pitch in with the planting before heading out on the path.

Lambert on Widow took the lead, cutting the path through the snow. Baby and Spook followed. They would cycle the horses, each taking their turn breaking the path. It didn't make for easy conversation, but it was best for their mounts.

Traveling in the winter was always a risk. Furs were rolled up on the backs of their saddles, small shovels tied on their mounts, saddlebags stuffed with food and water skins kept warm inside their coats next to their bodies. The horse breaking trail pulled the wagon because sleeping or sitting in a puddle of heat melted snow could lead to hypothermia and death.

They decided to push on through the night. Leo on Baby was in the lead. He pulled to a stop and pointed to the east where a glow could be seen. It was too soon to be the cabin, so they decided to check out who was on their land. Davor and Lambert pulled ahead to hunt the intruders while Leo followed their trail, his progress hampered by the wagon. He had to be more diligent, he didn't have a witcher's senses or eyesight and if any predators were about he was far more likely to be attacked as a lone traveler.

"Fuck me…" Lambert mumbled as he saw the shadow of a cabin loom from the darkness. Someone was setting up home on their lands. Oh ho...not for long. The cabin was eerily quiet as they broke from the snow onto the clearing. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to clear the area in front of the cabin. A kettle steamed over a pitted fire and there was a bluish light coming from the cabin and the attached stable. Likely the intruders were asleep.

Davor chuckled and shook his head. "I think this is Angel's work. The cabin is an exact copy of the other one." He dismounted and kettle. "Water. Probably warming for the horses." The cabin was empty; a fire burned low in the hearth, several hours old, and the strange glowing moss lined the walls. "It appears our guardian Angel did not want us to get cold tonight. Head back to Leo. I'll stoke the fire, lay out food and take the kettle off the fire to cool."

"I knew there was a reason I..."Lambert broke the sentence off.

"Was always impressed by her generous heart?" Davor filled in helpfully.

"Yeah, that," Lambert said as he cleared his throat. "I expect a warm dinner by the time I return, _honey_."

Davor grinned. "Of course, my _sugarplum_. Just do not expect a foot massage."

"A man works all day…." He grumbled as he mounted Widow. "Back soon, knight."

The first thing he did was remove the kettle from the fire with the two sets of tongs lying nearby. He added a bit of snow to it to cool it and then poured it through the rain chute into the trough. The water was still hot, but should be cool enough by the time they returned. He noted the hay in the stable, another thoughtful gesture. He added more snow to the kettle and placed it back over the fire. He led his gelding into the stable and removed his tack. After cleaning his hooves, he gave him a quick brush down and headed back into the cabin. He tossed some more logs on the fire and laid out the food.

He sat down and waited, his thoughts turning to Angel. The cabin had a sense of comfort and familiarity to him. But it was the first time he was in one of her cabins without her. In that sense it felt empty. His gaze settled on the bed. He may not have taken her innocence, but he knew her scent, her taste and every inch of her body. He remembered well what it felt like to have her legs wrapped around him and now they were wrapped around…No…he pushed that thought away. He hadn't wanted to make this journey, but perhaps it was for the best. A part of him wanted to just keep riding, but he wasn't a man to run away from pain. He would face it as stoically as he faced their marriage. He'd made her a promise and he intended to keep it. He would handle this.

The sounds of their arrival tore him from his thoughts. He pulled on his coat and went out to help unhitch Baby.

Back in the warmth of the cabin Lambert warmed his hands in front of the fire. "Now this is living. A man could get used to this. I wonder if she has any sisters."

"I do not believe she does, Lambert. She's never spoken of them. And even were she to have other sisters they may not be anything like her." Davor pointed out.

Lambert grunted. "Who cares, knight. So long as she's pleasant on the eyes, has a nice pair of tits and can make cabins like this then I'd never have to sleep in another ditch."

Leo grinned. "You better hope she doesn't have Yennefer's sunny charm."

Lambert shuddered. "Thanks, Leo. Nice of you to kill a man's fantasy."

"Yennefer…I know I've heard that name, I just can't place it," Davor admitted.

"Ha! Lucky you. She's a bitchy sorceress that has been with Geralt for the last fifteen years or so, on and off…mostly off. The bastard doesn't even remember her. Wish I didn't have to," Lambert grumbled.

"I must have met Geralt during one of their off times then; he never mentioned her and didn't act like a man who was taken." But then he'd never known Geralt to act like a man who was taken. And that was something that had better change. "Is she that bad?" he asked curiously.

Leo started choking so Lambert slapped him hard on the back. "She treated Geralt like a dog and he let her. Can't understand what he saw in her. It's sunshine and rainbows every time she left Kaer Morhen." He tilted his head. "You met Philippa, right? They are both uppity, willful, secretive bitches. Maybe now that we have Angel, we won't need to involve sorceresses anymore."

That just didn't sound right. None of it did. "First off, Geralt must loved Yennefer, why else would he put up with her if she treated him poorly?"

"Don't be naive, knight. Did he love her? Did she love him? Fuck if I know, but I do know he lusted after her. Ask anyone and they'll tell you that the woman put a chain around his balls and led him around. Whenever they did get together, it never lasted long. It was like they could only stand each other for brief periods of time," he said with a shrug. "Despite Dandelion's ballads of their destined love, reality never seemed to live up to it. So if you are hoping he'll see Yennefer again and leave Angel, I – well, maybe the ass will…But if he does, I'll beat the fuck out of him."

Davor released a heavy breath. "On that you will have to wait in line." He would rather live without Angel than see her hurt. Thankfully, conversation went in another direction after that, each of them sharing stories about their early training until the need for sleep claimed them and they piled onto the bed.

With the coming of dawn they were up and breaking their fast, eager to be on their way. With one last, longing look, they left the cabin behind. Tonight they would reach the second cabin, from then on it would be sleeping in the wagon. Hopefully, it would not take them too long to reach town.

-BREAK THREE-

By the time the three of them returned from town they were in better spirits, or at least two of them were. Not even returning to snow after the town's warmer weather really bothered them. And within the next six weeks they were breaking ground to plant the year's crops that would see them through until next spring.

The horses gave up their saddles to pull plows, except Titan, who flat out refused and no amount of sweet talk from Angel would change his mind. So, instead of field work she focused on shoring up the newly opened chambers below the keep. The more she managed to open it up, the creepier it became. But she could only take the place in small doses, so it took her awhile to repair the damage and clean it out.

Vesemir remained quiet about whatever went on down there, but what she saw certainly hinted of Kaer Morhen's darker past. It was more than just the cells, the hanging cages and what looked torture devices…there was also some kind of pit, though she couldn't begin to hazard what it had been used for. What she did know was that the feel of dark slid over her skin an oily phantom. One of the rooms she'd opened up seemed nicer than the rest, though no less dark. The water had ruined almost everything in it but for a single trunk that glowed.

"It was sealed by magic," Geralt explained when his medallion began to tremble. "My concern is that I'm not sure if it was sealed to keep someone from opening it or to keep something from getting out."

She further shielded the trunk. She did not want one of the others to open it without her around. "We'll leave it here for now. Maybe, now that we found it, Vesemir will be more willing to tell us what happened down here – if anything, to keep us from opening the trunk."

A glow, barely visible beneath a layer of sediment caught his eye. "There's something over there," he said, pointing to what had to have once been a desk.

"I see it." When she saw him reach out to wipe away filthy mess she cringed. "No need to touch that."

He watched her slide her hand through the air over the top of the sludge. The muck vanished and was followed by a wet splat as it dropped into the corner of the room. "A tome – also sealed by magic." He picked it up and examined it. "And locked too," he said when he noticed the thick band binding the two covers together. "This might tell us what happened here."

"Agreed," she said as she cleared the sediment from the floors and walls. "Tomorrow I will take care of the hidden room."

He looked at her with a brow cocked. "Hidden room?" How was it that he'd not sensed one? He followed her out of what he considered to be an office of some kind and she led him to wall inside of another chamber of horror that she had cleared out earlier. He studied the wall with his senses and could see the outline of the new bricks that had been added. "Fuck…that doesn't bode well."

She frowned. Her thoughts exactly. "I know. That is why I left it for last. I can't help but wonder if these rooms were flooded as a precaution to stop whatever might be behind that wall. Maybe that tome will tell us more."

"Maybe," he said cautiously. Though now he began to wonder if they should leave the tome as it was. "But was it sealed for a reason too?" Either it was sealed to keep others from discovering its contents or it was sealed for a far darker reason. With what he'd seen down here - either could easily be the case. He could feel her growing unease - it was palpable around her, which was something he felt much more keenly since they'd become lifemates. It was still hard for him to believe souls could be meant for each other, much less bound together in such a way as to be one, but he didn't doubt her words. Not when he felt the pull to be with her and the keen sense of loss if she was gone from his sight.

Everything had changed after they were wed. The first time he'd made love to her after their marriage he'd swollen to the point that he'd locked inside of her. It had shocked her as much as it had him, but at least she knew what was happening. She'd guided him through the ritual of the binding, involving sex, vows and the taking of blood. This time, when he bit into her, the mark remained, a testament to their binding. A bond-mark she'd called it. That mark satisfied something very primal in him. It was a mark of possession – she was his. For a reason he couldn't explain, he was drawn to the mark. His gaze would seek it out any time it was exposed, his fingers would trace it absently, whether she was clothed or not. Touching the mark led to an instinctual need for sex and blood, to strengthen the bond. He also discovered quickly that every emotion and instinct he felt had heightened, including the need to be near her and protect her. How this would affect him on the path, only time would tell. But he regretted nothing. "We've been down here long enough, flash us upstairs."

She took a deep breath and nodded. When she held out her hand he took it and she flashed them up to the main hall. A shiver raced down her spine as the oppressive fingers of dark slipped from her skin to be replaced by a welcoming warmth.

He released her hand and rubbed the flat of his hand over her back. "You don't need to go down there anymore. You've made it safe – let the others take over now."

That's just it. She hadn't. "The walls may not pose a threat, but it is not safe for any of them…not yet. Something is down there…I can feel it touching me, demanding release."

"I felt nothing like that." He had assumed she was just more sensitive to suffering that had clearly gone on down there. When he saw the flash of guilt in her eyes before she turned her head away, he knew it was more than that. He turned her chin to face him. "Wife – what did you do?"

Her gaze rose to meet his. "I've been shielding you. Whatever is down there had no power over me, but I couldn't risk…I won't risk it controlling you – or anyone else."

His thumb caressed the side of her mouth. "You think it could?" Her silence screamed at him. He nodded and released her chin. "We need to find Vesemir."

"Why?" Vesemir asked as he closed the front door.

Geralt held up the tome. "This, for one," he said as he carefully placed it on the long table and sat down in a chair. When Vesemir and his wife joined him he pushed the tome across the table to the old man.

Vesemir studied the symbols on the tome and then turned it to look over the intricate lock that bound it closed. "Where did you-" he grunted. "Downstairs." He released a heavy breath and looked at the couple across from him. "I don't know what this is or what it means. I may have been one of the first witchers created, but I was never invited downstairs. It was primarily used by another witcher, who had an affinity for magic, and his sorcerer and sorceress friends. I don't know what went on down there and I didn't want to know. The noises I heard still haunt me," he said with a shudder.

"So you know nothing of the sealed trunk and what lay behind the bricked off room?" Geralt prodded.

Vesemir slammed his fist on the table. "No, wolf, I don't and that place should remain undisturbed. Let the dead rest."

"The dead aren't my concern, Vesemir. Something is alive beneath Kaer Morhen and it's only a matter of time before it has the strength to break free of its prison," she said quietly. "It's seething with hatred and it…hungers."

Vesemir closed his eyes. A part of him wanted to tell her to flood it again, but he did not like the idea of something that dangerous remaining under the heart of Kaer Morhen. "To fight it we must first know what it is." He pushed the book to Angel. "Open it. We need answers."

"Wait," Geralt said, laying a hand on the book. "It was sealed for a reason. We should do this downstairs where Angel can create a barrier to keep it from escaping – if something was sealed in it, we can't risk it escaping."

Vesemir ran a hand down his face. He had avoided going down there even though he knew Angel was clearing it out, but now he had to get a feel for the situation. "Show me everything you found."

He could feel the cold seep through him as they descended the stairwell into the bowels of the castle. The cells, the hanging cages, and devices of torture…some of which he had never seen before and had no clue what they were used for…the pit – none of this seemed possible. This was not his Kaer Morhen. What the fuck had gone on below his keep? Now he understood why they feared that the book was more than it appeared to be.

"I've seen enough," Vesemir said after being shown the chest and the wall. "Gear up; we'll take care of this now. I'll get the others."

Geralt grabbed Vesemir's arm to halt him. "I'm not going to have my wife shield everyone and fight. That's asking too much. We can't risk her becoming exhausted."

"Shield?" He looked from Geralt to Angel.

"Whatever is down here is trying to take control…to influence. I've shielded you both. I can't risk it controlling any of you."

Vesemir rubbed his stubble. He didn't want to risk taking on something dangerous enough to be bound and flooded with only the three of them. "Can you handle shielding one more?" The odds still weren't favorable, but he could have the others ready in case whatever was down here slipped past them.

Syntl nodded. "Yes, I can do that."

"Good. I'll have the others outside the barrier in case it slips past us." He hadn't wanted to know what was happening down here, but his not knowing had become a liability to them. He bumped his head against the invisible barrier. He held his hand up to touch it, when disappeared he hurried outside to gather the others.

Once everyone was geared up they met at the top of the stairs leading down to the dungeon. "Angel, Geralt, Eskel and I will be going down. The entrance will be sealed. I need the rest of you ready in case something gets through us. We are facing an unknown danger; it cannot be allowed to escape…at _any_ cost," Vesemir said with an intent look sent to each of them.

After the four descended the stairs Leo put out a foot to tentatively test the opening. He couldn't see the barrier, but his foot struck it. "I think I prefer visible barriers," he grumbled. He rubbed the back of his head when it was cuffed and glared at Lambert.

"Damn, that felt good," Lambert said with a grin.

"Quit acting like children," Triss scolded. "Leo, stand on the barrier. If it goes out we'll know they're in trouble."

Leo smirked at Lambert and stepped on the innermost part of the barrier, so if it did collapse he'd land on second or third step.

Davor ignored them, focusing internally, trying to get any feel for Angel.

Syntl sat down at the desk in the office and ran her hand over the tome, releasing the seal and lock. She carefully opened the cover. The language it was written in appeared to be hers, but the words made no sense. "What do you see?"

Geralt just stared at the gibberish. "Nothing that makes sense. It's in ancient – your language?"

"Yes, but none of the words make sense….patterns…patterns…" she drummed her fingers on the desk. "I think someone put it in code." She touched the page and watched as the words scrambled into something that made sense. "Better." She scanned over the first page and turned to the second. "It is describing the rituals of mutation." As she skimmed further she frowned. "They were performing experiments, different mutations…the results. I – it looks like they were using DNA of mages to try to enhance witchers." She ran through a few more pages. "It's just a list of names, dates and results…failure after failure. Subjects died."

A shiver ran down her back at what she read next. "They began bringing in other magical creatures – why would they do that?" She shook her head. "They used spinal fluid and br –brain tissue once initial blood trials failed. Species...dates…detailed notes – it all ended in failure. The author is starting to lose his objectivity. He just rambles on for a few pages."

She stopped and just stared at the words. "They wouldn't do that…"

Geralt placed his hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

"They brought in what the author described as three high-functioning magical monsters. The writing is a bit erratic but it appears to be some kind of demon, a higher vampire and a monster they didn't know the name of – only that her power was immense. It goes on to describe what they did to them – tortured them into a state of frenzy, hoping the chemicals in their blood and brain tissue would produce better results. It goes on to list subjects, what they were exposed to and details of how the subject responded to the exposure. Two actually survived, but they lost control of the subjects. Three sorcerers and a sorceress were killed before they were able to destroy the subjects."

She wiped a tear from her cheek. "The author is starting to get paranoid. He thinks the others are plotting against him. One by one the others started dying; attacking each other…the writing is becoming incoherent. He writes that 'he knows' over and over again. The then it just falls into gibberish. I think something in here started taking control of them. In fear, they sealed the beings away and flooded the place. But that is only speculation." She turned the page and backpedaled with a shriek as a face pressed against the clear surface of the page, its nose and forehead bulging the page outwards.

Though her legs were shaking, she pushed her husband's arm away when he tried to force her behind him.

"LET ME OUT!" The face bellowed over and over.

"It would seem we found the demon," Vesemir said, his tone dry.

Destrius pulled back with a charming smile. "You may call me Destrius. I am just a man who has been suffering for centuries trapped inside this book. Is it so wrong for me to wish to be free? Would you not wish to be free too?"

"I would," Vesemir agreed. "But then I am not a danger to everyone - I'm not out to trap the souls of innocents. Seems rather a fitting punishment."

Destrius blinked and then laughed. "Are you not dangerous, witcher? Witchers were among those that tortured me heinously and left me here for eternity. Tell me, if you would, please. Who is the greater monster - he who had the misfortune of being born a monster or he who chose to become one?"

"Clever bastard," Geralt murmured.

Vesemir shook his head. "What my brethren did was unconscionable, but we are not all alike. You cannot blame all witchers for the actions of few mad men."

Destrius folded his arms over his chest. "Can I not? Then why do you have the right to judge me? I may be a daimon, but we are not all alike. Do you think I was captured at some crossroads trying to trap weary travelers?" he asked with a small wave of his hand. "Tripe, that. I was captured trying to rescue an extraordinary being that had been imprisoned by them."

Vesemir looked up at the trio next to him. "Demons mix lies with truth to make them more believable. You cannot trust anything they say. If he tried to rescue anyone it was for selfish, nefarious reasons."

Destrius let out a slow breath. "Selfish. Perhaps. She fascinated me much as you do," he said pointing to the woman. "But that does not lessen the risk I took trying to rescue her – as you can clearly see," he said with bitter irony. "But then witchers take money to kill beings like myself. So tell me true, which is more selfish – a man who goes on a rescue mission out of fascination or a man who takes coin to kill another?"

"Fuck me…" Eskel rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm starting to sympathize with the bastard."

"That's what he wants," Vesemir growled. "Remember, demons are masters with lies and twisting the truth."

Destrius chuckled. "You give me far more credit than I deserve. Demons do lie and deceive, but no more so than man. And by that I mean all men, not just humans. In fact, over my lifetime I've seen more black hearts in men than the demons I know. But I digress. As I pointed out earlier - I'm a daimon, not a demon, and I was cursed millennia ago by cousins. I cannot deceive nor can I lie. Who among you can claim the same?"

"My wife doesn't lie, nor does Davor. All men are not liars," Geralt pointed out.

Syntl blushed. "I would lie to protect those I care about if I had no other choice," she admitted.

He laughed. "Refreshing honesty from one who claims she would lie. But you are incorrect, Davor lies. He lives a lie. Perhaps, his lie is selfless, but it is a lie nonetheless. By your very laws – as a Prince he has an obligation to his people that he chooses to neglect."

She closed her eyes and released a harsh breath. Her gaze rose to meet the daimon's. "His father declared him dead years ago when he was forced to become a witcher."

"So he perpetuates the lie, does that make it any less a lie?" Destrius asked.

Her brows drew together in frustration. "He does not lie about who he is, he just doesn't advertise it. If he is asked about it he will not deny the truth."

-silence- "I will agree with your assessment. But he _would_ lie for you. The things men do for love. He even forgave you, a dear friend," he said pointing to the white hared man, "for taking the woman he loves. Magnanimous, that one. Few would be so forgiving."

"That's not fair," Geralt growled. "I didn't know – hell, I don't even remember him."

"That doesn't make the pain any less to bear, does it?" Destrius inquired. "Now, will you release me?"

"No," Vesemir stated flatly.

Destrius frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I will not bargain with a demon-"

"Daimon – and I have not offered you a bargain." he corrected.

Vesemir waved his hand. "It doesn't matter; I will not endanger souls by releasing you."

Destrius sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You are stubbornly thick. Your eyes are wide shut and you cannot see the truth in front of you. We've already discussed this. I do not take souls. Never have, never will." He lowered himself to the ground against the back wall of his prison, drew his knees up and rested his forearms on them. "Now that you are aware of me, one day you will have need of me. I can be patient. Curious, though – how many of my kind do you think there are? So long as I am in here then the demons will continue their soul raping with impunity, without me to intervene. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall return to my slumber."

She had not realized he was naked until he'd backed away from the barrier window. He looked remarkably human and sculpted at that. "Wait! Come here and place your hand against the barrier," Syntl urged.

"What? What are you doing?" Geralt asked with a hard edge to his voice.

"I'm going to read him," she said quietly.

He rose with a sigh. "Oh, goodie…parlor tricks. You do realize touching it is painful to me?"

"Please…"

"Very well," he said and placed his hand against the barrier. His cheek ticked as the current flowed through him.

She placed her hand against his and released a breath.

"I see it is painful for you as well; pain is often easier to bear when shared. What will you have of me?" Destrius inquired, trying to ignore the pleasure of the touch. It had been so long since he'd been able to feel or touch anything.

She moved her hand to the edge and his followed. "Why did you say I fascinated you?"

"Because you are like Lorista. The only two of your kind I've found, though I've heard another came some time before you," he said with a shrug. "It was most unfortunate that I was unable to save her."

"Do you mind if I look at your memories?" she asked him.

-silence- "No, but I would rather you didn't. I do not wish to relive what they did to us and bearing witness to our suffering would bring you naught but nightmares."

She shuddered. "What I read was bad enough; I do not need to see that. I wanted to see Lorista." She closed her eyes as a series of pictured flooded into her of a woman, tall and lean with long, golden-brown hair and blue eyes that glittered with defiance. She gasped when she saw the same woman shaved bald, naked and filthy. Scars on her back and head, her ribs prominent, bony nubs protruding from her back. "I've seen enough, please stop." She released a haggard breath, but she could not keep the gorge from rising. With a hand over her mouth she flashed herself into the forest and heaved until her belly ached and had nothing more to give.

Geralt stilled in the middle of pacing when she returned and pulled her into his arms. His heart thundered as he held her.

"Soul-bound. That's adorable."

"Shut up!" Geralt growled.

"Nothing is more covetous to a demon than a pregnant woman or the soul-bound. Two for the price of one – so have a care." He cleared his throat. "I profoundly apologize for the images I sent you. They were the most….delicate that I could share."

"Do you know what happened to her?" she asked, her throat tight and still burning from the bile.

"No, but I heard the screams and can hazard a guess. They would often impale her to keep her neutralized. I do not know how or if they killed her before they fled; I know only that the screams stopped. They bricked up what was left of her behind that wall," he said pointing out of the room. "Release me, Syn."

She stepped away from her husband and squared her shoulders. "I will release you if you agree to be bound to me and that you will harm no one except in defense of yourself or others."

Destrius shook his head. "I would rather stay here than become a slave again."

Vesemir choked. "Are you insane?" he asked hoarsely.

She looked over at a man she deemed a father. "I ask that you trust me in this. He is not what you think he is, nor is he the being that is rotting Kaer Morhen. He is, as he said, a guardian. I read him as I did the book; there is no deceit in him. My conditions for his release were for your benefits, not mine or his."

Vesemir knew the world was not black and white, hell he lived in grey. But freeing a demon that was neutralized was almost more than he could stomach. "The consequences are yours to bear, child."

"She will not bear them alone," Geralt said in a strained voice. He knew not all monsters were evil and the worst monsters often wore the skin of man.

Eskel blinked. He couldn't believe Vesemir, of all witchers, would cave. "I believe what he said, and even if I had doubts, I believe in Angel."

"That is truly touching, but I will not be a slave," Destrius reiterated.

Syntl turned her attention to the daimon. "You read me as I read you. Do you honestly think I would condone slavery of any kind? So I ask you – do you agree to my terms?"

-silence- "I do." There were worse things than being bound to a beautiful and deliciously powerful woman.

-BREAK FOUR-

She touched the clear barrier and then her hand slipped through. "Give me your hand."

He took hold of her hand and when she pulled it through he felt the cold of dungeon against his skin. The feel of her fingers…the cool of the room…things he had not felt in centuries. When she turned his hand palm side up and sank her fangs into his wrist his body shuddered with pleasure. He reached upward with his fingers and grazed the skin behind her ear, leaving a small mark behind it. He did not want their bond one way. The mark served two functions, it would allow him to locate her and it would show that she was under his protection. Most demons feared him and the newer ones? Well, they would soon.

She released his hand and it slipped back through the barrier. He was far too large to come out of the book. She drew her hand across the page and released the barrier. "Desi – to me."

He appeared next to her, and smiled as clothing materialized on him. It was a suit of sorts, but nothing like the foppish attire of the times and the material was sleek. "Nicer than anything I could have come up with, you have my thanks." He lifted his head, breathed in deeply and shuddered. Her scent was enticing but the scent of the dark was not. He hugged her. "If you were not soul-bound I would show you pleasure you never dreamed possible," he murmured in her ear.

She chuckled. "Thank you, but my husband is more than adequate."

He pulled her from the daimon's arms. "Adequate? I'll show you _adequate_."

She ran a fingertip down his lips. "Promises…promises…"

"Later," Vesemir said with a roll of his eyes. "We are not done here."

"Lorista," she whispered and hurried out of the office and into the chamber with the partitioned wall. She drew her hand along the wall and the bricks appeared, stacked up next to it. The smell of dank decay wafted from the room.

Destrius placed a hand on her arm. "Are you sure you want to see that? It will likely be horrendous."

She patted his hand. "I know, but if she's dead her body needs to be taken care of." She slipped from his grasp and into the room. Desi was right; she was not prepared for what she saw. She had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling as she woodenly approached the woman.

The Kin's hands and feet were chained; spikes were driven through her hands. A steel bar in the shape of a 'C' impaled her heart and was chained tightly to her side so her body could not expel it. Her skin was leathery and clung to her bones; she looked little more than a skeleton. Her hair was long and scraggly, patches of her skull gleamed through. Her lips were drawn back in a hideous, frozen smile, her fangs extended.

She pulled open the woman's eyelids and saw milky irises but the pupils contracted. "No…no…" Tears slipped down her cheeks. "She's alive," she said through a throat tight with emotions. "No one should have to suffer through that. No one."

Destrius waved his hand and the chains and irons disappeared. He caught her body. "I did not think she survived," he said quietly.

"Geralt – cover the wound on her back. I need to fill her heart with blood." When he was in place she removed the dagger at her belt and sliced her wrist. Every time the wound started to heal she sliced it again until Lorista's wound knitted closed. "Give her to Eskel," she said quietly.

She turned to Eskel. "Take her to Davor and have him put her in Geralt's room. He'll see that she is taken care of and I know he'll treat her like a beautiful treasure and not a..a…" her words failed her.

"I understand,' Eskel said quietly. He was horrified that the woman was still alive. He could only hope that her mind was not as broken as her body. Perhaps it would have been better to end her suffering, but it was Angel's call. She was the only one that had the right to decide the fate of another Kin.

Leo stepped away from the barrier when he saw Eskel approaching with a corpse in his arms. He couldn't stop the shiver from sliding down his back.

Davor looked questioningly at the corpse and then met Eskel's eyes. The haunted look in the man's eyes burned into him. "Is Angel okay?"

"Yes," he said in a strained voice. "One of the captives, Destrius was released – he will help us. Lorista here, she's Kin and she survived a hell no one should be forced to live through. Angel asked me to put her into your care. Put her into Geralt's room and see that she is taken care of."

"Of course," Davor said as the body was slipped into his arms. She looked more dead than alive, but he would do everything he could for her. "You are in good hands," he said gently as he carried her out the door. "I won't let anything happen to you, you are safe now. I promise."

Eskel nodded. He had been the right man for the job. "The rest of you stand at the ready. We need to figure out how to handle the higher vampire. He is what is threatening Kaer Morhen."

"Fuck me," Lambert said. "What the fuck are you going to do? You can't kill a higher vampire."

"I know," Eskel said wearily.

"Eskel…" Triss said as she reached out to him. "Be careful."

He grasped the tips of her fingers. "I'll try." He lowered his hand and returned downstairs.

"He is dangerous and he cannot be saved. His mind is broken, he must be destroyed," Destrius said in no uncertain terms.

"I know that," Vesemir responded. "But only a higher vampire can kill another higher vampire."

"Do any of you happen to know one?" Syntl asked.

Vesemir coughed. "Knowing one and trusting one are two different things entirely. We could well end up having to battle two higher vampires, not a risk I'm willing to take."

"Regis," Eskel put forth. "Geralt told me about him before. From what I understood, they were close."

Geralt blinked. Why would he ever befriend a higher vampire? More important – why would a higher vampire see him as anything other than a snack? "I don't remember him," he said with a shake of his head.

"I could drop the chest into a volcano," Destrius offered.

"And I could drop it into a sun, but that's not the point. We do not know what would actually kill him. It is not my intension that he suffers even more. No one deserves that. We need to find out for sure how to end his suffering." She took her husband's hand. "Are you willing to let me have a look?"

He slipped his arms around her waist and brushed his lips over hers. "Do it."

Now that she understood a lot more about witchers she knew just where to find what she was looking for. She had avoided that bundle of memories before because the picture of what lay within had been a horrendous monster and she was afraid they were dark memories or fears and did not wish to unlock such memories before he was ready. But now she knew them for what they were – an encyclopedia of monsters the witchers had to battle. Higher vampires should be among them. His body shuddered when she released the memories. "Think the name Regis over and over like a mantra. There – there he is. I have him. Impressive name. Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy – to me!"

"That, I must say, was quite unexpected and a most spectacular display of power." Regis looked around the room and spotted Geralt. "Geralt, what a pleasant surprise, I was hoping to see you again."

Geralt clasped arms with the vampire. "I remember your face, but not our past. I lost my memory."

Regis' brows rose in surprise. "That is most unfortunate news, but I gather time will endeavor to take care of that problem." His gaze settled on the woman, he could feel the power emanating from her. "I presume you are the lovely creature that brought me to this enticing dungeon?"

"The _lovely creature_ is my wife, Angel," Geralt replied dryly.

"I find myself surprised yet again. Congratulation, my friend. I can see your taste in companions remains as diverse and intriguing as ever," he said eyeing the daimon. That is when he felt the presence. He followed it into the office and laid his hands on the chest. "I see now why I have been summoned. His mind is shattered. I cannot even make out who he once was. Ending his suffering would be the kindest gift we could give him."

"We all agree with you, Regis," she said as she came to a stop next to him.

Regis eyed her carefully; he could see the brunt of the strain that she tried to hide. "You are shielding all of us from him. That is wise. His strength has increased with his madness; even I would not be immune to his influence." Her power truly was fascinating.

She placed a hand on his arm. "I want him at peace, but I want to make sure he suffers as little as possible."

Regis nodded. "When he is released he will be incorporeal. He cannot hurt you as such, so he will have to manifest. He will strike out blindly in his madness, but his strikes will be deadly. If he is weakened enough I can kill him, but at that point, only you and I will remain down here – that is not a request. What I must do is not for others to see. The only reason I allow you to stay is because you will need to continue shielding me so that we do not risk that he will turn me."

"Absolutely not," Geralt growled.

Regis frowned and turned to Geralt. "My friend, you know – ahh…" he released a slow breath, in truth he did not know, for he did not remember. "I would protect your wife with my life."

"There may be another way. We were discussing options before you arrived. Desi gave me the idea. He suggested dropping the chest into a volcano. But as there is a chance I could survive those temperatures, I didn't want to take the chance that he would to. So, I considered dropping the chest into the sun, but didn't want pursue that until I knew there was no way he could survive. If, and I do not see how it could even happen, some…particles of him managed to escape, could he regenerate from that?" she asked.

Regis just blinked. It was inconceivable that anyone could have that kind of power. And even if she could get the chest to the sun, he had no idea of the sun's temperature. "I would have to take your word as to the sun's temperature. But suffice it to say that we do not have the power to regenerate from a few particles. Otherwise, every hand or leg severed from our being would create a new us," he said with a shudder of distaste. "As to whether it would cause him to suffer, that would depend entirely on the temperature of the sun."

How could she begin to convey the heat of the sun? "How do you measure or describe heat temperatures on Vornth?"

"Vornth?" Vesemir asked.

"Sorry, that is what we call this planet," she explained. "We named all the planets in your-"

Vesemir held up his hand to halt the flow of her words. That was more than he needed to know.

"Warm, warmer, hot and fucking hot - if a dropped egg cooks on stone," Eskel said helpfully.

She smiled and bit her lip. "I do not know how to describe the heat of the sun in a way that you would understand, but I do not know of anything in your galaxy that it would not consume. I just wanted to make sure I knew as much as possible before making a decision. Thank you, Regis. I am comfortable with my choice now. Regis, Desi - please carry the chest outside and set if facing the sun."

"Fascinating," Regis said as he passed the others waiting at the top of the stairs. "How is it they are frozen in such a way – yet I can still feel the warmth of their skin?"

"Time is moving substantially slower for them. It was easier for me to do that than to shield them all from the vampire's influence."

After they set the chest down she made a shooing gesture with her hand. "Please stand away from the chest for a moment." She studied the sun as everyone stepped back she then placed both hands on the top of the chest and closed her eyes. "Shhh…your suffering has come to an end. I am sorry we did not find you sooner. Rest well in the arms of peace, my friend." She discharged a burst of power into the chest and then flashed it into the sun's solar surface.

Her stomach rolled and she stumbled away from the others and fell to her knees. She barely felt the hands that pulled back her hair or the arm that slipped around her waist to hold her. All she could feel was the violent, dry heaves that ravaged her belly.

When her stomach stopped rebelling Geralt pulled her onto his lap. He looked over at the vampire that had quietly held back her hair. "Thank you, Regis."

A small, somber half-smile pulled at his lips. "I owe her far more for the kindness she bestowed upon him. She gave him peace before the end. He knew no more pain." His gaze settled on Angel. "You are free to summon me if ever you have need of my services. It would be my pleasure to assist you in any way that I can."

"I killed him twice," she said in a strained voice. She swallowed and hissed - her throat still needed to heal.

A brow rose in surprise. "I see it quite differently. Had we fought him it would have put us all in danger and his suffering would have been compounded. You granted him something I could not – a swift and painless release," Regis assured her.

He rose, gripped the long strap of his satchel and approached Vesemir. "If I may be so bold as to inquire if I may stay a few days in your dungeon. It would appear my friend needs to become reacquainted with my person and I wish to get to know his wife."

Vesemir just blinked. "You expect me to allow a higher vampire to remain in the keep?" He glanced over at Angel's smiling face and threw up his hands. "Why the hell not?" He turned to stomp back into the keep. "There'll be more fucking monsters than witchers soon. Monster Keep…that's what it will be," he groused.

"Splendid!" Regis replied with a grin. "I do appreciate a warm welcome."


End file.
